John Kaminski

July 19 2004

Deeper Dreaming

Thoughts on crossing the ecliptic: Does someone want to kill us all?

By John Kaminski

If you persist in trying to attain what is never attained (It is Tao's gift),
if you persist in making effort to obtain what effort cannot get,
if you persist in reasoning about what cannot be understood,
you will be destroyed by the very thing you seek.

— Chuang Tzu (Thomas Merton)

My good friend Hard Hawk (his Seneca tribal designation though he’s an honorary Ossetian who now lives on an island in the Mediterranean which shall remain unnamed) reminded me today that all this murder and rape and these nauseating atrocities that the Americans are inflicting on the Iraqis and the Israelis are relishing as they butcher Palestinians are really, across the many centuries, the hallmark of human civilization, typical human behavior. Criminals rule, and always have.

Consider: Americans squeezed the life out of 60 million indigenous people, from the 1637 Thanksgiving burning of the Pequots through all the pogroms against the Cherokees in Tennessee and the Seminoles in Florida, to name just two of many massive massacres. It’s just the same way with globalization now: wipe out the existing population and take over. Only today we do it with immunization programs in Africa, the accidental spread of biotech grains around the world, and deliberately putting poisons in our food and medicines.

Sometimes it makes you wonder who’s in charge of all these programs, who’s really in charge. Do they want the Earth to be radioactive? Are they trying to kill us all?

Yes, it's interesting to contemplate these present times in this historical manner; what is happening is merely a continuation of all that has gone before, business as usual. Which, despite the anguished protests of millions of compassionate souls around the world, is probably why hardly anyone notices what’s going on. Because it has always gone on.

The globalization monster probably began when Rome gobbled up Gaul and Britain, or even when Cambyses the insane Persian marched into Egypt to end the last dynasty of Amasis, or even prior to that when Sargon and his successors conquered the various citystates of the Fertile Crescent, perhaps back before that when the Lords of the 40 Lost Cities sent their Brahmins to India to dispatch the indiginents, all the same story probably long before that, deep into the unremembered darkness of prehistory.

Now the process is known as Zionist America, spreading like a fatal virus through the nooks and crannies of our planet. It makes today’s bloody events easier to comprehend, though no less tragic. So the answer then can only be as Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu insisted, to find one's own path to the way of all things, keep one’s own counsel about the sadistic spasms of the human society (fat chance I’ll ever do that), and be grateful to have witnessed the dance.

Come to think of it, the universe works this way too, as the bigger stars swallow up the little ones and spit out random chemicals that fly inexorably across the starry firmament and land on boiling rocks like this one. Eventually, after billions of years and much organic socialization, these heavenly elements eventually coalesce into lifeforms and civilizations, if conditions are just right.

The way the universe works is the path I am trying to follow. Still, the heart and soul within me cry out at the needless tragedy of mothers who see their children bleeding before their eyes in places like Fallujah, Ramallah, Darfur, Brazzaville, and Columbine High School, all those lives cut short by men who see something they want and will kill anyone or anything to get, even though in the perspective of time what they wanted is meaningless. Somehow I think, though, that the universe (call it God if you want to) sheds no tears for the follies we create for ourselves.

Of course you know by now a deeper question lurks in all this turmoil that embroils us in strife and disease, in the misery and malice that jolts our everyday repose. The question of who we are and where we came from and why we're here. You know that one. It is only the focus of all life on this planet, in your mind at all places and times. Whether you realize or not, you hear about it everytime you go to sleep, as a knowledge door glides open and the information is available. It is the search for the source, and every bit as essential to our health and our survival as food and water.

When you go to sleep your pineal gland (or third eye) awakens and takes in information from other realms you do not normally hear in the daytime. It is in this way some of the great philosophers meant when you wake it is to sleep in the comforting distraction of material reality, but when you sleep it is to awaken into the larger reality of the universe, which in its timeless sleeping dreams a joyful dance it desires to be shared by all.

Comprehending it is quite another matter as when we wake and try to recall that message from the night as it flits past our focus like some mosquito in a dark tent, in parables and ironies and myths dimly half-understood for only a fleeting instant; then we think, what was it were dreaming (?) as dawning day grinds our groggy senses back into the tepid trance of consensual consciousness.

Behind all our questions, all our glimmers of understanding, lies a deeper question. We hear it whisper to us when we consider all these other ominous facts that besiege us throughout the day: Why is the world being deliberately poisoned with radioactivity? Who would possibly do this when no one can survive this suicidal policy? Is someone really trying to rub us out? Why in any God’s name did they ever put fluoride in the water when it could only dull our senses? Why are they poisoning us with lethal chemtrails, biotech food, bogus medicines, constant wars, endless lies, and all manner of toxins no matter which way we turn? Is there, in fact, a gigantic plot to kill us all, or are these fears just pathological projections of our own terror, that we know somewhere in the looming future a bullet has our name on it, be it cancer, the comet, or simply the inexorable inevitability of creeping decrepitude.

In the back of our minds always is the factoid that the beast of darkness will come to us at some inconvenient point. But that alone does not account for all these strange and vicious happenings that now afflict our panicked world. The answer must needs have a deeper meaning.

So that's the prime candidate for the reason why we ask these questions, why we trace genealogies through the mists of time, why we drop to our knees and wail "sweet Jesus protect me" from the dark tsunami you hear creeping up behind your left ear.

Answers during the day are hard and bitter and mostly unproductive. But during the night, the information is there to be had if you can but master the way to corral it, and tougher still, remember it.

The great Taoist master Chuang Tzu once dreamt that he was a butterfly fluttering here and there. In the dream he had no awareness of his individuality as a person. He was only a butterfly. Suddenly, he awoke and found himself laying there, a person once again. But then he thought to himself, "Was I before a man who dreamt about being a butterfly, or am I now a butterfly who dreams about being a man?"

So just before I walked outside and saw the unbelievable beauty of the universe in matching perpindicular crescents of both the Moon and Venus now gracing the pre-dawn morning sky, this is what the universe had to say to me just before I woke (yes, it’s another dream story) as taken from my foggy notes just after I clambered over to the keyboard.

What is the larger question? We zoom through sleep bombarded with information that we take in but don’t ordinarily remember. Are there beings out there talking to us? We imagine their little pointy faces, and sometimes see them on magazine racks in supermarket checkout lines. What is the level of this coverup? (if it is one), we wonder.

In my dream we were all trapped in a giant supermarket (we have Publix markets in Florida, which are all squeaky clean and the fruit is always fresh and luscious, so nobody was feeling particularly uncomfortable; in fact, nobody was noticing much of anything, which is the normal state of most shoppers).

Aliens communicate with us when we're asleep, the tabloids told me, because the pineal gland is open and we're more receptive to info from other realms, I was thinking, standing in front of the video rental rack, realizing that we were in a movie titled something like “Aliens admit they created life on Earth,” but we were actually watching a movie made to cover up the fact, titled something like “Report on aliens creating life on Earth proven a hoax.”

See, what happened was somehow the real movie got on TV and people were freaking out, so something had to be done and the coverup movie was made to calm people down. But as we were watching the coverup movie, the real aliens were hovering nearby in their little, barely visible evanescent spacecraft (kind of like surfers in sunglasses hanging out the windows of their woodie on the way to the beach) trying to assess if we were accepting the coverup story.

I got the impression they were conflicted about the whole matter, even though it was their intent not to reveal themselves. But somehow they wanted to give us a hint to let us know what they had done, yet they felt they couldn’t give us this information directly because it would be too shocking for most.

The real message in the first video was that humans were cultivated by these folks like so many vegetables in a garden as an experiment to see if souls could grow and survive when left on their own. The progress we had made, I guessed they surmised, was that we hadn’t evolved sufficiently to receive this news in a straightforward way.

Couldn’t blame them. Shee-it, just look at the evidence in the daily newspapers, all blood and guts and senseless confusion.

And yet the conclusion dawned on me that that's why we always look for the deeper meaning, because deep down we know we were put here for some kind of test. So that was the dream. I guess that it means that deep down, I believe life has meaning.

I noticed on the website Space Daily the other day something about our solar system crossing into another region of our galaxy where magnetic influences were somehow different, and that we would be perceiving things differently, scientific values would vary slightly. Pardon my vagueness. Technically I’m illiterate about most material things.

And I’ve also read that when the Mayan calendar ends in 2012, it will mark the point were we cross the exact midpoint of our galaxy, called the ecliptic, and all manner of soothsayers (not to mention government provocateurs) have described all manner of events this happening will trigger.

You won't get the answers you ultimately seek in some leather bound book embossed with gold letters containing self-serving historical atrocities. You will find it in deepest, darkest, scariest sleep, deep in the darkness where there is nothing to worry about except loving well enough, except accepting love fast enough because there is such an abundance of it in everything, could you but only see it.

Then I got up and made coffee, and thought: so this is the reality I have chosen, huh? I better go back and read the instructions again. And when I did, this is what I found.

Tzu Li went to see Tzu Lai who was dying. Leaning against the door, he said, “Great is the Creator! What will he make of you now? Will he make you into a rat's liver? Will he make you into an insect's leg?”

Tzu-Lai replied: “The universe gave me my body so I may be carried, my life so I may work, my old age so I may repose, and my death so I may rest. To regard life as good is the way to regard death as good .... If I regard the universe as a great furnace and creation as a master foundryman, why should anywhere I go not be all right?”

— Chuang Tzu (Paul Harrison)

But if I regard the world as evil, then there is much to fear indeed.

You will become, my friend, exactly what you dream.

John Kaminski is the author of America's Autopsy Report a collection of his Internet essays seen on hundreds of websites around the world, and also “The Day America Died: Why You Shouldn’t Believe the Official Story of What Happened on September 11, 2001,” a 48-page booklet written for those who insist on believing the government’s version of events. For more information about both, go to http://www.johnkaminski.com/

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