24. 12-02-11: Agent Smith

172. 12-02-11: $62.52 @ 5:52

‘This is your secure holding area,’ says Charlie to the Customer at Register 3, the Checkstand at the Beginning of the End.  ‘Feel free to place your basket here..unless you wish to do bicep or tricep exercises while you’re waiting.’

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PKD’s Exegesis (cont.):

“48. ON OUR NATURE.  It is proper to say: we appear to be memory coils (DNA carriers capable of experience) in a computer-like thinking system which, although we have correctly recorded and stored thousands of years of experiential information, and each of us possesses somewhat different deposits from all the other life forms, there is a malfunction- a failure- of memory retrieval.  There lies the trouble in our particular subcircuit.  ‘Salvation’ through gnosis- more properly anamnesis (the loss of amnesia)- although it has individual significance for each of us- a quantum leap in perception, identity, cognition, understanding, world- and self-experience, including immortality- it has greater and further importance for the system as a whole, inasmuch as these memories are data needed by it and valuable to it, to its overall functioning.

Therefore it is in the process of self-repair, which includes: rebuilding our subcircuit via linear and orthogonal time changes, as well as continual signaling to us to stimulate blocked memory banks within us to fire and hence retrieve what is there.

The external information or gnosis, then, consists of distinhibiting instructions, with the core content actually intrinsic to us- that is, already there (first observed by Plato; viz: that learning is a form of remembering).

The ancients possessed techniques (sacraments and rituals) used largely in the Greco-Roman mystery religions, including early Christianity, to induce firing and retrieval, mainly with a sense of its restorative value to the individuals: the Gnostics, however, correctly saw the ontological value to what they called the Godhead Itself, the total entity.”

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173. 3-29-10: back to back totals @ 6:11 pm- $18.44 followed by $18.44- Charlie tells his supervisor Shawn about it and Shawn calls Charlie over to the Desk to tell him that he just finished counting a til whose change came to $18.44

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The Pulse quickens.  Rosie Grant’s text to her son Charlie on Fri, Nov. 25 1:19 AM: ‘Charlie- I’ll give you more information about your birth as it emerges…This poem I wrote 4-5 years ago recalling having stitches out after Cesarian birth, which all, you, Matthew and Jack were: and I inadvertently opened a book on Family Constellations tonight, where I had placed a copy a couple of years ago.  (I am going to give a talk on Family Constellations at Staffier Assoc., one of my jobs.)  Here’s the poem:

SACRED SCAR

The doctor seemed puzzled.

I lay on the table

The staples now gone

Premeditated and violent

the stabbing took place.

the birth of a son

a silent disgrace.

in womanly impotence,

(no labor ensued)

no fight to bring forth the life from my womb-

only the invasion, like rape

of my flesh cut deep

like a hand over my mouth

to silence the scream

my spine rendered senseless

no pain felt, no evidence of malice,

as life was pulled out of me

so sudden and brisk

his scream, in contrast, so loud!

my son is now a man.

The scar is invisible.

The wound from his birth now healed-

and I live with my scar

like Black People.

u were 9lbs. 2 ounces.  You were breast fed.  I was in labor, every 2 minutes for 9 hours.  After 9 hours your heart monitor dropped dangerously low, so Cesarian was decided.  I was awake during surgery, fully alert when you were handed to me to hold, as were you fully alert, eyes focusing directly at me, (uncustomary for newborns to be so able to focus) I attributed that to that you were 2 weeks past due date, but, I don’t know that this was related to ability to focus your vision.)  I’m going to sleep.  Love you!’

—————————————————————————————————–

‘I could cut the cocoon open with my knife and the moth would just be free with no struggle…But I’m not going to do that, Charlie, do you know why?  Nature is strengthened through struggle, Charlie,’ says John.

—————————————————————————————————

Charlie struggles.  He suspects his inner child has been re-captured by the Smiths, the Men in Black, the Gatekeepers of the Matrix.  He may once again have to plunge to the depths to rescue Little Charlie from that horrid sterilized 9x9x9 aluminum cell.

————————————————————————————————-

He hands the Customer her receipt.  ‘Here’s your ticket to the Great Outdoors,’ he says, reciting the line he learned from Christian Walken in Santa Fe.  Christian Walken gave Charlie his beautiful Martin acoustic guitar.

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‘I have a degree from BU, Baggers’ University,’ he says while bagging the customer’s groceries.  He learned that one from Eugene O’Leary in Swampscott.

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‘One door closes, another one opens,’ says Gabriel to Peter and Kokopelli aboard the Mother Ship.  ‘He will eventually recover from this blow to his Lower Wheels like he always does.  He’ll get up, dust himself off and keep his eyes open for the next open door, yes?  Kokopelli, that was quite the trick you played on him there with 22.  He’s getting wise to your ways.  Which is good, yes?’  Kokopelli does a little dance of approval and teleports to a mesa in Arizona.

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‘For your bagging pleasure, located below you at knee level is the amazing, retractable, ergonomically-friendly bagging-shelf,’ he says.  He made that one up himself.  He’s said it so many times now that he can say it wicked fast, like that guy in the airline commercials, like the announcers reading the fine-print in a radio spot.  Yes, he’s a geek, but at least he has fun.

————————————————————————————————–

Another one he made up: ‘Please don’t place too much trust in the handles (on the paper bags).  They’re applied with cheese by a highly-skilled drunkard in Wisconsin.’

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‘You must really stock Unique American Bath Tissue in your Wretched Coochie,’ says Silver Starr.

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Screw b.s. fairy tale love stuff for now I guess, he writes.  There are many fishes in the proverbial seas.  I’m a Wild Man in Civilized Garb.  I walk with Pan, I walk with Kokopelli.  I’m on the Left Side of the Right Hand Path, finding my own way alongside you.  I’m stitched into the Margins of the Magic Carpet.  This is my place.  I’m not striving to be normal-average-mainstream.  Not striving to be like everyone else.  Yes, it might get lonely sometimes, but there are plenty of other freaky threads all around me here with which to connect.

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‘Normal is statistical average; it is an abstraction, a fictitious construct,’ Bananaman reminds him.  He goes on to quote Christ in the Apocryphal Gospel of Thomas: ‘If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you.  If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.’

——————————————————————————————————

Joe Smith’s Dream Self is named Chester Candycliff.  He has a pretty pretty mustache.

——————————————————————————————————-

It’s such a bloody mess in Charlie’s heart. Parumpumpumpumrumpumpumpumrumpumpumpum.

——————————————————————————————————

See the Oroboros.

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The Shadow Monster feasts on his heart like a buzzard.  The giant hawks soar over his head in the parking lot, where he stands on his black futon mat.  How long til the whole heart is gobbled up?  The pain is incredible, it doesn’t cease.  The Pulse quickens.  The rape of the Mother continues unabated.  Oil is drilled, armies march, the Protein Factories are herded and slaughtered.  The mad mass-produced procession passes through the laser scanner.  Boop Boop Boop.  4-8-15-16-23-42 every 108 minutes.

The trickster god Kokopelli plays his flute in the Sea, within and around a shark feeding frenzy.  The Pulse slows to a crawl.  Drum and flute resound.

Kokopelli is inside the Testicles, playing and dancing to the assembly line rhythmic mass production of iron-clad  Sperm Warriors.  Millions upon millions of them, all programmed to swim to the Egg, all fueled by the Fructose.

Pan dances freely and joyfully while he plays his Pipes in the forest, beautiful Nymphs dancing all around.

Peter Pan doesn’t grow up.

——————————————————————————————————

It is 11-22-63 in Dealey Plaza.  President Kennedy is shot from the front by two gunmen- one located behind the picket fence on the grassy knoll and one located on the triple overpass- and from behind by one gunman located in a lower floor of the Texas School Book Depository Building, which is now the Sixth Floor Museum.  No shots are fired from the Sixth Floor.  JFK is blown away by CIA-trained assassins.  It is a military coup de tat with Lyndon Johnson waiting in the wings.  It is also the first in a series of U.S. military-media-controlled psychological operations deployed against the American People.

9-11-01 is also one of these operations.

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We hate to break it to you but..- They, the Agent Smiths, the Men in Black, exist and They are waging war on you and the Earth.  The good news is that they are inferior programs, they are sloppy with their cover-ups and they are always defeated eventually by Neo, the One- the Awakened Global Brain, the Anthropos.

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The Great Awakening is upon us.

The Great Healing is upon us.

The Nine are Now Here.

The Prophecy is being fulfilled.

The Great Purification is upon us.

The Veil is lifting.

It is almost Time for the Birth, almost time for the White Light to shine forth.

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Penny puts out her cigarette and goes to her altar, where she proceeds to offer blessing and prayer to the God and the Goddess.  The red altar pulls Charlie to Penny like a magnet.

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173. 11-27-11: back to back totals- $37.38 followed by $42.43

174. 11-27-11: $5.28 @ 6:28 pm

About kylegrant76

Eye am that Eye am
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