From “There were Violets” – about those last two lines:
… we feed upon the flesh of dead men…
For those who know me, or about me, you will probably already know what I’m going to write. This is for those of you new to “my” philosophy. I’ll try not to be overly wordy or boring, and I will explain.
Some 30 years ago my life intersected with non-Earth energies, or entities/people if you will. This intersection resulted in a miraculous healing of a debilitating and worsening back condition, and a change of mind about… everything.
I call these people “The Teachers” and I’ve received some pretty amazing information from them. I’ve also been faced with very difficult challenges upon which my continued healing and good health depended. In other words, we’ll look after certain aspects of your life and you will accept us as your teachers and way showers. Deal, take it or leave it.
So began a series of teachings that surpassed anything any earth-type teacher or leader could ever hope to accomplish. But instead of allowing me to rely on them, these entities taught me the necessity of making up my own mind about literally everything. I call it self-empowerment. That means that when I think, say, write something, that is my truth – and that truth is subject to change without notice moment by moment, because there is no such thing as “the truth” as any observing person must know by now. “The Truth” belongs to belief systems and it’s the kind of poison brainwashed believers (in any kind of system) or insecure adherents need to push on all comers. I have no truth to give to anyone, I have dreams, visions, awareness, remembrances and observations as well as experiences. That’s the extent of my truth.
Now to the explanation: we feed upon the flesh of dead men. Violets are truly beautiful flowers, aren’t they? And where does this beauty originate? As all Earthian beauty, or what man considers beautiful, it originates in dying, decaying or dead matter. This is a truism, but not one that people usually like to link to their observation of beauty. That link has often been made by both, poets and prophets, but not by “ordinary” people. Ordinary people see the obvious: ugly, pretty, nice, disgusting, beautiful, horrible – the judgments flow one after the other non-stop.
Nothing wrong with judgments: only the dead cease making judgments. To be alive means to be in a constant state of judgment, about everything. The problem arises when the judgments are simply based upon belief systems rather than on honest observation. Judgments are often misleading or false and give rise to bias which gives rise to some pretty terrible events and unbelievable cruelty.
We feed upon the flesh of dead men refers directly to the worst, and terminal virus infecting this entire world. The virus is predation.
Predation (from Word Web dictionary) “An act of plundering and pillaging and marauding” and “The act of preying by a predator who kills and eats the prey.”
Predation is a fact of life so common, so ubiquitous here that it is taken for granted; in fact evolutionary “science” teaches that it is not just legitimate, but an absolutely necessary part of life. As an Earthian you are not even allowed to imagine a world without predation. The standard response is always the same: life grows from dead matter and that’s the way it is and must be. The predator virus is so completely established here that no one questions it. Dead matter is needed as fertilizer for new life. That’s the Credo. That’s the over-riding belief system.
That being the case, all the beautiful things that rise out of “the ground” on earth take their food from dead matter. Violets feed on the flesh of dead men. The earth is fertilized by death.
Well, you’d probably think, nothing wrong with that. Things die, we’re in a closed system, therefore the dead have to give life to the living. We eat to feed our bodies. Much of what we eat comes from the inanimate part of earth life, but much also comes from the shedding of blood of innocent sentient creatures man has declared himself the master and owner of.
There’s a very serious side effect to all predatory life: because it is completely dependent on dying, decaying or dead matter, the more life is desired, the more death ensues. Cause and effect, no way out of the spiral. Man, caught in this vicious spiral which is also called entropy, is expanding his numbers and for that more and more of the planet has/must die. No way out. If man reaches out to space to feed his numbers, then the nearest planets, then solar systems, will also fall into this insatiable maw and they too will die.
According to The Teachers, and I have seen demonstration of this, real life does not depend on predation, quite the opposite. Real life expands itself by feeding new life and nothing is ever threatened. Nothing needs to die in a real world. Predation is not a “natural” process at all. It’s an op, a controlling feature of ancient forces man has been the slave of since inception and has little or no idea what, or who, these “farmers of worlds” actually are. Without going into novel-length explanations, I can say this of man’s “authorities and powers and spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” that they are fallen creatures and they are the ones who feed on lesser life-forms. They are the original and real predators. Man’s programming simply extends predation to this particular quite insignificant little world.
Beauty as we perceive it is but a tool to hide the depravity, ugliness and corruption of all that is predatory. War is man’s ultimate enslavement to the predatory concept, and it is so vile that any even remotely empathetic, decent mind would utterly reject it in any of its forms and for any of its purported reasons to be.
Perhaps food for thought, and in closing, here are the first two stanzas of the famous poem by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, written in 1915 and the height of the madness now known as World War l.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks still bravely singing fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead: Short days ago,
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved: and now we lie
In Flanders fields!
Next time you look at something truly beautiful, ask this question: could this beauty be possible without the death that lies beneath it? Even if the beauty is that of a lover, or a child, think of those who came before and are now gone; who gave their “seed” to this beauty, and think further to what happens to beauty grown out of death, how quickly it too will age, wither, die and decay and how ephemeral new life will spring from its death. How long must man accept such a skewed, debilitating and degrading system?
If all other lessons were forgotten, this one I could never forget: “As long as the problem of predation and death continues on your world entropy will increase and eventually it will be all dead – nothing new will sprout here, certainly no new beauty will ever be seen on its surface again.”
And how do I know these people speak truth? I have seen their world, a world where “death” is gone, banished, unknown to their younger generations. And how can this be, you will ask? How about food, and living space if things just keep on growing?
That is programmed earth-thinking limiting concepts.
Hint: how vast is space? Where does infinity begin, and end? There is your answer.