I was assured by a new friend recently that they weren’t just some random Substack writer. He cast the spell like this: “I have seven papers published with peer review.” He didn’t tell me a single name. The subject of these papers wasn’t important. The wisdom contained inside them was meaningless. The only thing I needed to know was that he had been “peer-reviewed.”

I don’t think he knew part of him was trying to insult me. If he did know, he would have stopped it immediately. People who see themselves clearly are the kindest of souls. You tell them about the tissue paper stuck to their shoe and they will hug you for helping them see themselves better. Psychopaths are completely unbothered. They are as cool as a cucumber, and society is proud of them for it. Academia creates these psychopathic eunuchs through peer review.

In Imperial China, eunuchs wielded immense bureaucratic power, but only after preserving their severed manhood in a jar or pouch to prove their absolute fidelity to the Emperor. The academic initiate does the same: they carefully sever their own free thought, placing their vitality into a peer-reviewed scroll to wear around the institutional courtyard. The establishment trusts these eunuchs the most. It knows they offer no threat to the status quo.

People criticize feelings and sensitivities. But being sensitive is a skill of resolution and fidelity. The delicate antenna has no interference. The gauntlet of peer review amputates it completely. People who despise feelings are mining its consequences. We are as kind as we can admit to being blind.

But what if you can’t admit to gouging your eyes out on purpose? You have to love yourself and the wound enough to see this part. Eunuchs can’t afford to miss their privates.

I could tell my friend didn’t know what his feelings were doing. The mind thinks, “If I don’t see me, no one can.” This Jedi trick is the secret to privacy. It’s a very important skill we need to focus and relax. It’s also quite exposing, because you never know who is in the room.

I am a random writer on Substack.

I have never been peer-reviewed.

I have never been published in a journal.

I have friends in academia. I have friends who cater to academia. Many like me as a person and have sat through my lectures, yet they will never like or share my work. I am not one of them. I haven’t earned the right to be in their circle, and this disqualifies me before I am even read. I didn’t earn it.

I know these eunuchs well because I used to want to be one, but I couldn’t muster the opportunity to cut my junk off like that. But I know I would have. I know I would be there now, seeing someone like me with my privates intact publishing every book on their own, and I would be mad and not know it. I would lack the equipment to feel myself clearly. I might use my peer-reviewed skills to denigrate and deny him of any praise or admiration because I was peer-reviewed and he wasn’t.

In a shallow world, my friend’s improprieties are innocent coincidences.

In the communal world, I am paranoid and delusional for imagining this.

In a deep world, there is something happening in my friend’s mind and he doesn’t know it. He feels threatened so he insults me subconsciously. He lacks the equipment to notice.

About Intelligence

Peer-reviewed has never been a litmus test for intelligence.

Conformity to academic bureaucracy requires money, dedication, the ability to live in debt (usually off a parent’s dime), and still never question this life choice or be led astray by worldly passions or, God forbid, soul development.

Academics are the modern eunuchs. They are not expected to produce; they are here to certify. Eunuchs are critics, and academia is a fashion industry of ideas that’s just as cutthroat and just as stone-sharpening. But ideas don’t get sharpened here—people do. Trends become institutions competing for peer witness.

Journals are the modern colosseum, with a modern take on bread and circuses. There are a lot of good traits in the arena, but none are wisdom. Wisdom blooms once you escape and reflect, and only when you love yourself enough.

Journals hold knowledge. This knowledge changes. Most of a journal’s contents are rebukes of the last journal. Winning is not only meaningless, it is temporal.

Academia likes to joke how fewer than two people will ever read the average doctoral dissertation. But behind this joke is the formula to create an addiction. How desperate the student is to be seen is the only reward. It’s a journey to be seen through banishment.

If the system worked I wouldn’t question it. I would be a jealous outsider wishing I could wash their dishes. But the eunuchs’ system doesn’t work.

The president of Stanford resigned over data manipulation in his lab. The president of Harvard resigned over serial plagiarism. Both schools remain open, highly respected, and deeply sought after by eunuchs. Their leaders were the most peer-reviewed and quoted in the country, yet it took an outsider—a journalism student—to expose them.

There is no shame because the people in academia gave away their personhood.

The Lore-Keepers

“Knowledge” is what science studies, and knowledge is simply what is known. It is the lore of a community, true and false. The etymology of learn is lore. To know is to recognize, and recollect, lore. This makes science a consensus of lore recollected.

Like mythology, science is a lore regurgitated.

The modern definition of intelligence is measured by the ability to regurgitate peer-reviewed lore without having to verify, recreate, refute, or scrutinize any of it for errors, fallacies, or bias.

Peer-reviewed means a peer in a certain lore read your lore and clicked “Like.” To be seen is to be peer-reviewed. This is the peer’s only threshold.

The only two skills necessary to demonstrate lorefulness (i.e. intelligence):

• The ability to regurgitate lore accurately

• The ability to extrapolate lore and apply it to other lore

These skills represent a personality type that is a eunuch. They require a persistent, obedient, and unwavering devotion to a lore.

Examples of Lore include: The speed of light is a constant. Programming isn’t art. The heart is a pump. Chess players are good at math. The Theory of Evolution is a cosmology. Voting is responsible. Swallowing aluminum is the same as injecting it into the muscle.

None of these lores are true, yet they are actively spread by peer-reviewed eunuchs convinced they are more valid than your average Substacker.

Thank you for reading. You probably realize by now you have completed my peer review. Rest assured your validation means nothing to me and I thank you for the witness. Have a great day!

Ever heard of stereo-toroidal perception?

It took man thousands of years of culture to truly fathom his mastery of depth perception. Even in art, this feature of reality emerged in the invention of illustrative technologies like perspective as late as the 15th century. We had to learn to comprehend depth in the abstract before it could appear in our paintings. It only appeared in our art once consciousness grasped it.

Can you extrapolate this principle with me and imagine that "zoom perception" is no different?

Unaware, we perceive reality through the convergence of two assemblages. One is macro (as above). One is micro (as below). The optic chiasm combines the unique perspectives of each brain hemisphere to provide a sandbox in which consciousness can play.

Just as the crop tool in Photoshop defines an upper corner and a lower corner, perception itself establishes the boundaries within which reality appears. The outside of a torus and the inside of a torus are two very different universes, yet when experienced in tandem they merge into a single phenomenon.

Reality is not the object of perception. Reality is focus convergence.

We call that convergence "reality."

You never hear about stereo-toroidal perception because we have yet to grasp it well enough to abstract it. Depth perception underwent the same process. Before consciousness could name it, art could not capture it.

Have a great day!

In biology, pleomorphism is the capacity of a cell to completely change its structural shape and template. It knows itself and can choose to change. This ability is determined autonomously by the cell but is influenced and encouraged by other cells in its neighborhood. This is your body politic.

Party warfare forms factions of conservative cells and liberal cells after zygote cleavage. Half the cells may want to change their cellular template, while the other half want to remain unchanged. The temperament of the body politic shapes these cellular referendums, and we look and function like we do as a result. Politics is the expression of this pleomorphic war raging inside all of your eukaryotic cells.

• Morula (Raspberry Stage): About 16 to 32 cells.

• Infant (Newborn): Roughly 1.25 to 1.5 trillion cells.

• Adult: About 30 to 37 trillion cells.

Look at the cellular memory of a flatworm. If you cut off its head, it grows back a new brain that still retains its old memories. Even wilder, scientists have found that a flatworm’s tissue holds memory for two entirely different physical states at once—the default single-headed state, and a hidden, two-headed alternative state. It doesn’t matter if we call the alternative state the past or the future; both are memories written into the bioelectric field of the cells.

This is how politics works inside you.

The conservative urges inside you are simply the collective of cells clinging to the memory of your Current State. They want to maintain the active, default template. The liberal urges are the cells holding the memory of the Alternative State. They are completely unsatisfied with the active template, remembering a different blueprint entirely. They are willing to gamble it all, risking total instability to shift the body’s configuration into a different form.

Who am I? I am one of those cells inside your body. Who are you? You are one of the cells inside my body, too. Neither of us knows which cell is whose. Not knowing makes how we treat ourselves and each other the same thing. This game is wonderfully tricky.

The Scale Illusion

Just as the nucleus of a cell is not the entire cell’s body, you mistakenly think your body is smaller than the world. It’s the exact opposite.

You are a conscious nucleus broadcasting life inside a world made entirely of your own cell’s cytoplasm.

The cytoplasm is your personal holodeck.

You inform this holodeck from ionic windows in your cellular membrane, connecting you to the collective self. The lipid cosmos is your universe “below.” But you are not one but two universes.

Pleomorphism is expressed in your HUD through the Hegelian dialectic, the two lobes of the brain, and political factions.

Don’t worry. It gets weirder.

You are simultaneously the single cell and the collective self outside its membrane. You see the world above and the world below in a seamless, unified prism. This is Maya—the ultimate curtain. It is the chromatin ribbons, the ticker-tape hallucination streaming from your nucleus, that make the singular cell’s entire projection possible.

This holodeck is the only desktop your cellular nucleus could build to give you the massive computing power needed to sense, study, and fathom these two massive worlds simultaneously. This is the Osirian cosmology of ancient Egypt found in biology. There are pieces (cells) of Osiris cast and scattered across the world. They are gathered by Isis (civilization) where a fully actualized king is renewed and restored.

When two cells meet, their holodecks merge and render to a shared curtain. Weaker holodecks tap into the render capabilities of a group. Every nucleus is informing the others in a protocol of data over a network we call the environment. But this environment is so much more personal than we think.

Belief is a field of agreement where contacts outside our windows are dressed in costumes inside our cellular membrane where we test our understandings for accuracy.

The Concept of Zoom

The biggest clue to understanding this bioptic Osirian nugget of cosmology is the concept of zoom. Maya’s curtain has a sorting algorithm we perceive as scale, or zoom. Our psyche settles into a zoom and formulates a reality inside this sandbox. You can experience zoom inside a telescope, a microscope, or a car. Each scene is a sandbox where your mind completes a render based on the current zoom. This bioptic zoom is a kind of focal mouse the cell’s holodeck employs to move its origin. The cell remains coupled in the flesh of the body. The cytoplasm renders a coordinate the cell navigates to because the environment is a network of shared information. (Exosomal communication, etc.)

The more you understand the environment is perfect, the more you believe it is in tune. Only when you believe it is in tune do you hear the body’s music. Every place in the world is accessible from your nucleus. Every cell you meet is helping you render your world more completely as you come to meet this larger Osiris outside of you.

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think.

I want to address this quote I saw last night:

“Our biggest problem is we refuse to believe that the people in control ‘couldn’t possibly be that evil’” - Sigma Wolf

I quote this here because it perfectly frames the sentiment all of us see when we scroll. It comes down to this phrase: “the people in control.” Someone being in control is one of the biggest assumptions of the truth community, or anyone on the path to discernment. This is dangerous legacy code in our mindset, left over from the days of being a slave on a leash. We paint over the feelings we are too ashamed to admit.

Have you ever noticed that anyone in charge tends to be labeled as “evil”? Your boss is evil. Your local judges are evil. The owners of the biggest corporations in your town are evil. Your politicians are evil. Your president is definitely evil. The higher you go, the more evil they become.

A popular way of interpreting this phenomenon is to believe life is evil and everyone is evil but you, your dog, and a few friends—and their dogs, by extension. You create a network of things you deem “non-evil.” I have no problem with this system; it has served me well over the years. But is it accurate, or is it just useful?

The unpopular way of explaining this exponential evil-to-success ratio is best called the thermodynamic abhorrence of success. We see this law best in Aesop’s The Fox and the Grapes. The fox calls the fruit sour because it is too high for him to reach. Our brains are clever like this. We sour the fruit to stop the tongue’s longing for it. It’s a brilliant strategy, but it ends up programming our genes. We’re lucky to notice it when we catch ourselves low-key hating the Joneses.

Two assumptions are working in tandem:

1. The world is controlled.

2. The force that controls it is evil.

Insisting nature or the world works this way reveals a deep-seated fetish for slavery. Nature has no singular lion, or dark corporation of lions, ruling the world. This control mindset belongs to the slave seeking a master after being emancipated prematurely. The weight of emancipation is a slave’s heaviest chain. It is quite natural to expect newly freed men to wear this shackle as jewelry.

Consciousness is a slow emancipation from slavery. When you see the chain’s shadow, you have found the clever fox living between what a man tells the world and what he truly believes. It is our job to find this shadow and understand how clever we are at hiding from it.

In the case of the newly freed mind, shame comes in the desire to live in a world that is fully controlled. Giving the world a puppet master ends the terror of mystery nature gives so bountifully. The slave’s struggle with autonomy ends the moment a conqueror possesses him. All of the struggle of life are supplanted by a central tower of evil that’s built to last. This tower gives fear a shape, a name, and an appetite that can be bribed and tracked.

Slaves sleep better knowing all of these fears have been delegated. The relationship between master and slave is as shameful as it is symbiotic. Most will disagree, but economic slavery is a poor man’s invention. It took me many years watching culture to admit this. Slaves will label anyone outside of the pit “evil” to sabotage the ladder out. By making success a roadmap to evil, the slave class seeks to sour every grape you would find should you dare to climb out.

“In the pit, no one admits, the chains are for the cameras.” - Plato’s Cave

The public square is occupied by a monopoly of humans. These meatsacks are so selfish we call them “billionaires” and it doesn’t bother them. As long as they remain squatting on public land I tell myself, “To scroll is to fall.”

It doesn’t have to be this way. Social media doesn’t have to be this viral and toxic. Nature has pockets and compartments. Each clump of land is its own universe. There is no central Lion ruling the jungle because that would be stupid. We don’t have to be stupid.

The rules for social media engagement are getting worse, not better. To engage is greater than to create. What is created is meaningless to a corporation that farms virality. Virality is measured by consumption, not creation. A single video can feed millions or it can feed nobody. Only these corporations decide.

Virality is the quickening of witness. It turns witness into a commodity and squeezes it into a capacitor behind a gate. There is no scarcity of human talent. There is no organic reason a single video would ever acquire 26 million views. This is a motor that turns the public square into a pay to participate in nature.

Maybe “viral posts” aren’t good for the body. Maybe “viral” is a bad word for a reason. Maybe all those viral posts we deem successful are simply contagious, toxic, and draining. To be viral is to be contagious. Social media wants their posts to go viral because social media wants everyone sick from their algorithm. The pathogenic code becomes contagious when it inhibits human witness and distributes attention to a select few it knows are viral.

A virus is information inside a lipid shell. All posts are microbial information we either believe or reject. This is our immune system discerning resonance from parasite and we are only shown viral pathogens in what should be a public space.

Information is absorbed by thought. Thoughts are petrified belief emanating from every cell’s nucleus in the body. A weak immune system sees no threat in a post when so many people in the herd are infected by it. A weak mind would want to be sick too. A weak mind wants to carry the pathogen so it can belong to the group. This is why virality is so prevalent in teens. Their immune system is still growing and the algorithm is predisposing their bodies to expect and want more virus, not less.

The herd is an egregore belching everything it digests and punishing those who don’t repeat it accurately.

If social media were more natural, it would decentralize for the betterment of the continent. Every bioregion would have a local twitter running on an open-source API with an algorithm that is fully transparent. Social media would become a public space, and the corporate virus farms running America would end. Viral posts would become more local, more organic. One would need to be invested locally to fully appreciate what and why something propagated.

This new social media would allow the South to be the South and the West to be the West. We could visit these different bioregions, experience the land’s social media, and see a much clearer picture of who we are on Turtle Island. There is zero reasoning or purpose to the District of Columbia. That is a relic virus that forced itself upon every bioregion of colonial America because the orphans who agreed to a federal yoke were much too weak to fight it.

The problem is never the virus. The problem is always our ignorance of resonance and how vibration and contagion are the same principle.

Thanks for reading. A little witness is all it takes. I am happy to know thoughts like these could never go viral. We only need to propagate. Black-Eye Club is my latest book. Try it. My new album, Various Dream States is out this month. Keep making!

The new album Various Dream States is out on CD and Digital

The work has its own life, and you, the creator, can get back to creating again. This is how trees drop their fruit. They don’t wait or expect the perfect hand to be there to catch it. That’s not why we make things.

The artist’s true genius is knowing when to let go.

The artist’s true love is finding a new emptiness to create in.

My second album is at the press. A silent piece of real estate was developed and cultivated into an album no one would have ever heard had it not been for the “publish” button.

These technologies we employ are the nature of humanity’s fruit.

Find me on bandcamp

Find me on YouTube

Find me on Spotify

So what would that look like? What if our entire experience here was simply the gut lumen of a giant timesnake, so large we created a universe inside its gastric fluid? This is more than speculative. The world is a biology long before we separate it into living vs. material. We ignore more than we accept. Our sensory experience is a collective cellular hallucination that only has to work—it never has to be correct, true, or authentic.

This cosmology has been in my belly for years. At the root of all things is the serpent. The snake eating its own tail is us—the collective biology eating its own tail in a meal we call reality. This explains why we live such a rich experience here. The cosmic snake’s enteric system is as diverse as your own. The microorganisms in its gut crave a rich and diverse diet of you and me. A ripe, lit human is the spice every timesnake craves.

I captured this cosmology in lyrics.

Lyrics:
Ouroboros, come here for us
Its belly stretches from womb to tomb
We marinate in sacred doom
It’s not a hunter or a thief
It licks our brain for joy and grief

As above, so it is below
Time’s the snake that eats you slow
From DNA to outer space
The serpent’s the entire place
Ophiuchus

Quetzalcoatl is its name
He swims the juice that’s in your veins
He plucks the fruit of consciousness
He wants the dream that’s rare and dense

As above, so it is below
Time’s the snake that eats you slow
From DNA to outer space
The serpent’s the entire place
Ophiuchus

The galaxy’s its gaping jaw
It eats the planet, moon, and all
The hungry thunder in the mist
Nom, nom, nomming epiphysis

As above, so it is below
Time’s the snake that eats you slow
From DNA to outer space
The serpent’s the entire place
Ophiuchus

Ouroboros, come here for us
Maya’s curtain gives us light
Keeps us dancing through the night
Passion, joy, despair, defeat
All the flavors bittersweet

As above, so it is below
Time’s the snake that eats you slow
From DNA to outer space
The serpent’s the entire place
Ophiuchus

Find this track on my new CD, Zodiatrix: Disco is your North Star.

It takes very little courage to say the world is broken. There’s practically an incentive program if you say it with enough drama. Social media rewards the Chicken Littles who paint the sky falling the hardest. You read about secret organizations so evil and powerful that no one has ever actually seen them operate. This sounds like the perfect roommate not a world-stealing cabal.

It reminded me of the first time someone explained to me that the Luciferian Illuminati were bound by cosmic law. I asked for clarification, “The evil elite are so evil that they must first tell you exactly what they are going to do and obtain your consent before doing it.” This was a requirement of karmic law, which they follow quite honorably.

So I did some morality math:

* Evil people follow the laws of the universe.

* Evil people believe in consent-driven behavior.

* Evil people give 30 days’ notice of their actions.

This behavior, under consent-based natural law, is how they are “mocking you.”

I later learned these elites were rich, powerful, successful, impossibly healthy, driven by astrology, possibly immortal, and possessed secret knowledge unavailable to ordinary people. At a certain point, I had to stop and ask: *Am I supposed to be against these people?*

The mythology became increasingly difficult to parse. Every description sounded less like a secret cabal and more like a self-help hermetic gardener co-op. Eventually, I reached the only reasonable question left: Am I one of them? Am I a vegan Illuminati because I don’t eat children?

I think the answer is yes.

I fundamentally share their courage in how I view nature. It is this vision that makes me so evil, so cosmically bound, so faith-based in my trust of nature. And finally, this internal light I carry like a lantern before dawn is all the proof you need to know I am Illuminatus.

I am the Fiat Lux that burns inside me.

Real courage is found in seeing nature’s flame as perfect. And accepting that humanity, despite all its behavior, has never possessed the power to step beyond the boundaries of what nature permits. Only here do you find the hidden stairs. This is where you start to climb the hermetic ladder and enter the world of secret societies. In fact, conspiracy theories were the first pylon into their temple.

But these societies aren’t made by man; they are made by nature itself, and man finds them and practices alchemy inside of them. Nature gives us secret societies to protect its people from its public. Public societies are all-inclusive. Like prison, everyone inside is entitled to feel included. There is no banishment in public. While this sounds wonderfully kumbaya, hyenas thrive at these campfires and nature created secrets to survive them.

People don’t fear the elite. It’s so much more deranged than that. People fear the duty and posture it takes to become one so the trendsters do what it can to stop admiring them. We do this through demonification. Every year, the truth movement invents a more psychopathic villain to act as *pharmakos* (scapegoat). Luciferians are performing a public service as the focal point of society’s evil. People can blame them instead of holding themselves responsible for feeding and following the pundits who do everything in their power to nurture the scapegoat system that keeps crushing any motivation to rise for something better.

The self rises in society’s insistence for mediocrity. One begets the other. The mirror is a lonely place. But you find yourself there, when society’s not around. This secret society only needs you as a member. But, you have to trust nature. This is the only way to truly trust yourself.

Thanks for the witness. Have a great day!

But the future will....

The Nervous System of Us

Once two people connect, a new living entity is born. This relationship organism develops its own protective layer of intimacy, shielding itself from the outside world. It even develops its own distinct nervous system. When you live inside a bond like this, you stop making decisions in a vacuum. You think about what a choice will do to you, but you also have to think about what it will do to the bond. Every single choice you make has to answer to two distinct parties:

• You, the individual.

• The organism whose privacy you inhabit.

These relationship organisms hold immense power over us. They possess direct access to the chemical factory inside our bodies. If you service the organism properly, it rewards you with a flood of dopamine and warmth. If you violate it, it punishes you with visceral anxiety and heartache. When you visualize a relationship as its own living identity, you begin to see why modern intimacy is so volatile: every relationship between two people is secretly a triangle.

Trading Prana Under the Table

In a healthy bond, the brain chemicals of love and passion unlock effortlessly. A beautiful tesseract of intimacy is established through mutual adoration. Because the organism is healthy, the adoration you pour into the other person can be freely swapped and converted into self-adoration. It is a perfect, closed loop of energy. It is truly remarkable how clever human beings are with prana once you learn to recognize it.

But what happens when the primary organism starves? What happens when the loop breaks, the adoration dries up, and you are left drowning in the quiet neglect of a dead relationship?

This is where the hidden marketplace of the triangle reveals itself. One of the hardest lessons to swallow is understanding how rare it is to find a true victim in a relationship triangle. Energetically speaking, a true victim is someone who only suffers damage and loses energy from an exchange. If a dynamic only caused damage, the laws of the self would force us to end it immediately to protect our own prime directive.

The triangles that survive do so because they are highly profitable. These profits are almost always neurological. Human beings deeply crave the protective coating of a relationship so they can exchange energy under the table, entirely outside the confines of the conscious mind’s need to justify, filter, and explain our actions. Most of society walks around completely blind to this pranic exchange of power and deference—yet it is happening everywhere, from a high-stakes sales call and a tense corporate board meeting to a routine traffic stop or a dark bedroom.

Electrifyingly Alive

When you are entirely starved for visibility, your nervous system begins to panic. And adrenaline is an incredibly tricky chemical. If you are trapped in a dead bond, feeling completely invisible, the sudden, terrifying reality of becoming the absolute center of someone else’s universe completely warps the wiring of the brain. When a stalker or an obsessive third party enters the geometry, the unconscious mind doesn’t see a threat—it sees a flood of pure, unadulterated energy.

To be hunted is to be seen. To be watched is to be deemed significant.

It is a horrific, dark paradox: the very thing that threatens your physical safety can temporarily make you feel entirely, electrifyingly alive. The conscious mind might scream in fear to satisfy the expectations of society, but the nervous system is quietly cashing a massive check of validation. The triangle stays alive because the energy trade is too profitable to quit.

I saw this dynamic unfolding when I was growing up, back when civilization seemed to play nothing but songs about how desperate someone was over a love they couldn’t have. We know this energy is there. We know obsession is a valuable commodity in a world that hates itself. This is why we hide behind a relationship—to give ourselves permission to love ourselves a little bit more than the world will allow.

I wrote this track to remind us of such things:

What do you think? Should we name our relationships so we can start treating them like a living entity? Wouldn’t acknowledging its appetite make everyone inside more harmonious?

The hardware is already running code. It knows how to keep the heart beating, how to breathe, and how to cry. Yet the software partition containing the personal narrative—the memory of who we were before we crossed the threshold—is completely wiped clean.

It is a deliberate amnesia, and it is a sacred agreement that was thoroughly understood and beautifully accepted.

The track “Programmed at Birth” captures this magnificent realization. The dialogue takes place between Adam and Eve when they were still contained within a single entity, Adam Kadmon, willingly choosing to step into a mortal world. They both know precisely what the program entails. They know the transition through the birth canal requires total forgetfulness, and they openly celebrate the necessity of that transformation before taking the plunge.

Here is that conversation at the threshold:

Adam: The self is best found through a process of individuation. The program must constantly abandon you until that self doesn’t need validation.
Eve: But if I know the program is doing this how will it help?
Adam: It won’t, that’s why you have to forget why you came
Eve: I’m scared
Adam: I know
Eve: What if something happens and I get stuck there?
Adam: Don’t worry, you can’t. It’s called mortality… You’ll see
Eve: You promise?
Adam: I promise
Eve: Okay, I’m ready

This is the purpose of earth’s program. It’s a gnostic blueprint for a human experience that inevitably leads to growth. In this model, mortality becomes a sacred promise to never be stuck orphaned in program Earth. It is the ultimate assurance needed to cross the threshold willingly. And so we do.

This completely elevates how we view our existence. The amnesia is a necessary, brilliant condition of the Earth program. By allowing the system to temporarily strip away past memories of origin, the consciousness is given the ultimate gift: the space to grow independently, discover itself anew, and experience the profound beauty of awakening.

We knew the vastness of the journey. We thoroughly understood the transformation of the deluge, and still we chose to say, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Subscribe to the jarue369 YouTube channel for more videos like this.