Category Archives: Earth

Part 3 – Message from Tara

This is part 3 of 3 of my “message from Tara” or message in a bottle from 1000 years into our possible/likely future. As Tara and the Teachers have made clear to me many times, this foreseeable future isn’t written in stone. We certainly have the power to cause a massive rift in the Matrix and change everything. How would that affect Tara and her world, her civilization as described here? It doesn’t matter, it’s the future. All it means is I’d get another bottle from the future  with an entirely different message.  Anyway, enjoy this last part.

Legacy of the Great Death: It feels wonderful to interact so freely, so expansively, with everything and everyone. It’s something you never really get used to; something you could never take for granted. You see, we all “remember” the past; where we come from and what we’ve been through to get here. This, in part, is what pushes us forward. We are ever anxious to leave the old ways behind forever, including this earth. None of us, of those who have lived to create this new era, would ever again desire to experience the past firsthand.

We live a most wonderful life and our all-encompassing passion is to better this life and spread it out in the universe. We know we have something good; that we have earned it; paid for it with blood that will never dry; that our knowledge can be of great help to others when we find them. We also know that we have outgrown Terra and that she wishes for us to be gone so she can ponder mothering another pseudo-ISSA species.

The Great Death shocked us out of our lethargic complicity towards the earth and all the oppressed on it. It gave us a painful new awareness of the meaning of life.

First, there was so much death we thought we were going to die off completely.

We came back to life, were “born again” as a species. We went from despair, to acceptance, to compassion for all that remained.

We mourned openly and loudly. In the end we had to confess our guilt and our responsibilities for all that befell us and the innocents we destroyed in our wake.

We dis-enfranchised all our so-called leaders who had led us to the Death with their greed, lasciviousness and blind ignorance.

We grew to rely strictly on one-another. We rejected all central authority.

We took charge of our social re-structuring.

We matured in heart and mind beyond anything this world had seen of us.

Then “they” came.  Not to save us, not to rescue, not to pity, but to help.  When we asked why now, they said,

“We heard your cries and saw your tears.  We feel that your change is genuine enough.  You have matured enough we can risk helping you.  We will decide by how much and in what way.”

So we formed bonds with our star families.  But not everything was good.  Some Earthians believed the star people were demonic invaders and there were killings.  But we learned from them that compassion is worth sacrificing one’s life for.  They did not retaliate nor abandon us. They were more careful and we still suffer painful distance from those early encounters.

Questions and more questions: As my mind searches for new questions to ask about the future I wonder about the really distant ones we “know” from our astral travel research but have yet to meet.  What are they like to meet corporeally on their own worlds? What would it be like living with them? What more can they teach us?  I feel an almost painful longing to get going. That is why I interact with the space drive engineers every moment I can spare. Looking for the “secret” to cross-galactic travel – worm holes, space-folding, time/space distortion, stacks, not only of nested worlds, but of universes and multi-verses, dimensional gates – whatever will serve.  We have to get out there.

It’s as if there is a call from “them” to us. I can feel this every day. It’s not just natural empathy, it’s something else, something new. Sometimes I image “them” coming to us in space-folding ships to take us, or some of us, to their homes in distant galaxies. I know I would not hesitate for one moment to go with them.

Don’t start imagining for a moment that I, as an individual, am particularly intelligent, smart or brilliant. On the scale of intelligence here, I’m actually below average. That’s why I am so well suited to my choice of purpose. It’s also why I’m so desperate to learn; to understand, however much of our current technology escapes me. I’m more of a mind-sharer; a healer. I experience a thrill in my heart when I know I’ve touched someone and made him or her feel better about their life in general. Empathy, that’s what I “do” best. I’m what is considered to be a very ordinary human, but see? I’m considered human: I’ve (we’ve!) made it! Wooeee, girl!

The Supracity as starship: Our supracity concept already anticipates the possibility we may develop a “field” of such energy that it will wrap a supracity entirely in a bubble to become a star ship carrying tens of millions of lives into space – a common enough idea even in the science-fiction of your time, but much more likely to happen with us. The supracity is self-sustaining and could survive in space for eons, “docking” here and there to refuel from gases and minerals.

Or, all the Supras (there are now a dozen of those that encompass the entire human species of earth) could join into a man-made world, a mini-system called a wheel-world, totally self-sustaining. While this is likely what will happen, I do not support that idea.  Too much like the nation-state again.  Too much like “us” on this spoke of the wheel versus “them” on that spoke with a kind of “united nations” complex at the centre of our world to meaninglessly and powerlessly adjudicate “world” issues. Back to central government?

Not again!  Not ever again! That is the only thing I fear, this recidivism, and why I want to leave our species behind forever. If it happens, I don’t want to see it and I certainly don’t want to be a part of it.

Nevertheless, try to imagine a dozen supracities lifting off the planet simultaneously – every man, woman and child, every ISSA but a few thousand observers to remain until their task is complete.  So, what are we talking about here?  Perhaps the greatest mass exodus of humanity of any world or time – entirely leaving a home world by consensus, by singular choice – not by force – when much less drastic possibilities or choices still exist.

For example, we could remain on our home world and trust ourselves enough to return “to the land” so to speak without returning to being exploiters or predators. We could opt to pioneer new worlds within the galaxy now being terraformed in anticipation of human habitation (not necessarily Earthian!). We could, theoretically, simply leave our bodies to Terra and release ourselves entirely from physicality or dependence on data storage and just “vanish” into and beyond “space” to enrich First Mind (if such exists – and only in doing this could we know.  We could also be committing genocide). All possibilities, all choices.  But for us (that is, you and I – me!) I know it will always be the stars.

I must tell you that “time” no longer controls us. We determine its passage, how much of “it” we will use up in working out a problem.  What you call a “day” in your artificial time measurement could be a hundred years here, or vice-versa. No one here ages unless they want to look the part.  Our minds, of course, age as they expand and become ever wiser and filled with more understanding and knowledge. That sort of aging is always a good thing: it leads to more life, not less. Now remember this: you can practice that in your own “time.” Teach yourself to run on two or more “time frames” simultaneously. The more you do it, the better you will become at it. You will need that skill soon enough.

Back to the day – the Function – “Hi honey, I’m home!”: The place where I’m booked is a giant hotel/office complex with entire sections of floors dedicated to permanent residency for those working here.  My destination is one of the residences where I am to meet the man with whom I will interact and accompany for the next several days, a high-level bionics engineer. I am greeted by the checker who validates my ID and enters it at my destination. As I expected, he escorts me to the elevator and becomes easily familiar – with my encouragement. I relay my thoughts on an answer I picked up for an enhanced space drive. He frowns. “I think” (he picts as he stands behind me and holds me) “your idea would work on a star ship but not inter-galactically. I see problems with force field generation – much stress on biological forms. Perhaps it could be done using robots, drones or androids to do the work while the humans are kept in cryogenic suspension, but any biological complex would be damaged or destroyed. And we haven’t solved the time problem.  Think about it and I’ll meet you (meaning in mind) at our next sharing session.” I touch him gently, lightly and kiss him-it’s expected as a kind of tip-on the lips. There is no possessiveness in our exchange – just a perfectly natural exchange of bodily energies – a balancing. I slip through the irised opening into a grav-well and I am taken to my floor.  “Hi honey, I’m home!”

Subject – temp morphing: I should tell you a little of our abilities to “temp” morph, or change our basic body shapes for an assignment.  For example, if the woman requested of the agency is, say, a blond Scandinavian and none is available, my auto-surgeon can perform minor alterations and activate enhancements that can change me to be such a person. It is also possible to acquire a working use of any current earth language in less than one hour. I could perform a one, maximum two-day function as a perfect Scandinavian type without problems, complete with affected accent should I be required to verbalize one. Of course those who call for me are informed that their provider is an enhanced model and that her morphing is only good for the specified amount of time, after which it must be removed.

The agency becomes the fairy godmother and Cinderella is Swedish until the clock strikes midnight… then back to the fireplace coals, the soot and rags?  I think not…

Bottom line is, in all of this we no longer have secrets of one-another, nor can we who have evolved and learned from the Death, harm or hurt another in thought, word or deed.  If anyone has any thing another needs, it is offered.  That’s what it means to be human today. Exceptions, yes, but few and declining. Compare that to your times.

And that is what we always wanted to achieve, wasn’t it? So take comfort in knowing that despite the horrors your times have yet to endure, we have succeeded. We are well on the way to gain what we longed for. And when we break free of our transportation limitations, we will have so much more when we share this with other ISSA beings… out there, beyond our own stars. Perhaps it may even be possible to corporeally travel into the past, to “you” as this message did. Interesting thought, don’t you think? We could function as identical twins. I’ll call us “Youme”!

Closing comments: Are we happy?  The concept has lost its meaning for us (and doubtless it never really had any meaning for your times either – the term is a social convenience) because it is subjective and whimsical. I suppose we are happy to be questing for an ever-better future, whatever the dangers we face. We know we cannot turn back. But our quest is not stoic. We explore and share as much within as without and we exchange much laughter and banter – except we never laugh “at” anymore – only “with.” Please note the distinction and remember this next time you observe some comedian of your day making “jokes” – note how much of it depends on belittling someone, something in any number of ways that can elicit crudely unguarded laughter. The step from this to murder is so short, it hardly exists.

Wonder not why you are not evolving, either mentally or physically. When the mind goes stagnant, the body goes into decline because it is not respected.

I don’t know about being happy. I do know this: we know joy because we have known the greatest of sorrow. We are a joyful people.

Have we given up too much to gain too little? I don’t think so. I think that when we consciously, as a species, not a race, decided to leave our parochial, racist, patriarchal thinking behind, that what we lost and what we are going to abandon is nothing compared to what we are about to gain… We are not only going to discover new (to us!) worlds, galaxies, universes even, but our search has re-awakened what was lost in the dark ages of earth: God in infinity.

What that means I can’t say for certain but I know that I too must “touch the face of God.” I’ve always maintained that we are not God – such a thought is ludicrous – but we were originally designed (purposefully engineered to my way of thinking) to seek and to find. But not “where” nor “when” – not here, not there, but everywhere, though no such place exists until it is found – for it is spirit.

We survived our apocalypse. We have given up many false beliefs to become essentially a real people under an umbrella of true spirituality. From body, to mind, to spirit, we ever ascend following the sine wave of life.

And now to close, as our friend YLea taught us: “As below, so above.”

I realize now what she meant. From “here” I create “there.” From my present I make my future. From below I make the above. From whatever ingredients, recipe and heat setting I use, that is what I must expect to get out of the oven. If I put potatoes in, I cannot expect to pull out an apple pie.

As you say in your time, be well and don’t lose heart in your coming and certain trials. Remember I am the proof that you are strong enough to go through the coming tribulations and become the healer you always wanted to be.

Our future is: always.

Your alter-ego, Tara EarthStar or “Tess”

Short glossary:

Function – All humans with physical (corporeal) form must have a function that can only be performed in physical form deemed of value to the entire polis to qualify for corporeality.

*ISSA – Intelligent Sentient Self Aware, as defining a true human.

grav-well or grav-transport: force fields of traction beams used for horizontal or vertical transport to any part of a supracity, all part of the city’s self-contained energy grid.

Supracity: megalopolis – the singular city of a territory or region. A region or territory can only have one city.

Partials: Duplicate projection of an original human (or any ISSA) representing the original and operated by a part of the original’s mind – hence the term.


Message from Tara

[as transcribed by Sha’Tara]

{For the blog reader: the following I call a “letter from the future” as I received it from my future alter ego some time back. I had to think about it before I offered it for public reading – and had to remove some of the more personal aspects of the “letter”. I offer this missive from future “Tara” in 3 installments.      This is part 1} 

Introduction: Well, here goes and I hope I can write this to express what it meant to me when I received it.  This is not a story but an actual message from “me” – as Tara from approximately a thousand years into my future.  This is not “science fiction’; it’s what my future; earth’s probable future, looks like a thousand years from today.

The information I am sharing here was downloaded to my mind in thought-forms which I had to translate, like opening a zipped file to be manually reconfigured. I had to trust my memory to record what I was being told in a way that could make sense to anyone else reading this in this particular time. I realize that not all of what is in this “message in a bottle” from the future is acceptable to the antiquated mindset that rules this day and age but I’m willing to take a chance on the feedback.

I’ve often wondered how it would affect the run-of-the-mill human mind if it was ever brought face-to-face with a probable, or very likely, future. If it could be convinced that such a future is in fact an inescapable reality if nothing of what is currently determining that future is substantially changed.

This tiny increment of a future I am sharing with you is the most likely unless the direction indicated by our historical past, and our inconvenient present as we are shaping it, isn’t seriously nudged to one side or the other. Simply put, continue with “this” recipe and “that” is what you will bring out of the oven.

Message from Tara – greeting and authentication:

Hello to you. This communication is being pulsed from approximately 1000 years in your future. My name is Tara and my code name is “Tess” – from our initials, as I have continued to use the title “Earth Star” in our name.  Therefore Tara Earth Star – TES or “Tess”.  That is the name my function uses (explained later).

I have attached a code to this message to authenticate it to be me as future you by the feelings (felt as a tingling) which it will cause in your head. You will hear yourself say, “I know this.”  That’s how we authenticate time communications here. It’s like a spoor, or scent. You just know. If it doesn’t carry the code your acceptance implant blanks out the message – no, not yours, mine.  Sorry if I confuse you at the beginning: you don’t have any implants as yet. I remember well that we, that is you, had the wisdom to cancel out the brainwashing soul implant in your current time. That move has served us well in coming incarnations.

I am “you” or “us” and you can think of me as yourself in a future a thousand years from your now time. It is my hope this message will be received by you in the spirit it is being sent: as encouragement for you at a critical point in life choices and also as a glimpse into who we are, how we live and how we see ourselves as Earthians to the rest of the worlds we have come to know; perhaps more importantly, how we got from your time, to what I am about to reveal to you.

Since you will be unable to reply to this message, I will attempt to anticipate some of your questions and answer them in a way that should make sense to you. I know that after you decipher this you will have at least two obvious questions.

One, are we happy?

Two, in leaving the old ways, have we lost too much in relation to what we have gained?

I will leave these here for now and go on with my message. Perhaps the questions will answer themselves, and if not, I will attempt an explanation at the end.

Residency: I reside in the supracity of Angeles, Independent Territory California (ITC for short). You will recognize this as the city of Los Angeles, California, United States of America of your day. There are no longer political units you know as nations.  We use “region” or “territory” to describe our primary residency, but mostly we are known by the megalopolis we reside in. Angeles is the only city in the territory. This is where people live. Those who do not live in the city are in small enclaves of specialists and bio-engineers with their phalanx of helpers working with the environment – on soil, water, plants, animals as well as weather control.

No one just “lives” out there, whether on land or on water, who is not performing a function deemed necessary to the polis – the sum-total of all of us (exceptions noted and explained later). Their other, more critical function, is to repair the damage done to the earth by previous generations.

I am going to tell you about me by touching on parts of my day-to-day life, and supply whatever information needed so you will understand a bit of how we live; what we are up to. Many things I can’t explain – have no idea how they work, only that they do – amazingly and unbelievably well – and many of our technological abilities we simply cannot, and will not, share with the past. Your world would destroy itself completely if it were permitted to access and back-engineer many of our technology. I know only too well you do not possess the evolutionary or experiential maturity required to function on our intellectual and technological level.

I remember your time, not only as past lives memories but from scanning the data memory records of our many passages on this world.  There is a gap during the Great Death where we were on one of the stacked worlds doing what we’ve always done best –  and it worked.  We now have gender parity without need for legal enforcement. The misogynist patriarchy is dead and gone. We made it – we’ve got the world we dreamed of, well, almost.

After all, you’ll remember how you insisted that perfection was unattainable in the created order. You were right. So we no longer strive for things like perfection or freedom or love. We know they exist as absolutes and we know that the totality of a good thing destroys it. We strive for balance. However we are not “moderates” – far from it. We are full of passion but ours is of a new kind – almost frightening even to us.

We are much more understanding and accepting now and these are truly exciting times to live in.

Personal: I live on the 35th floor of a downtown apartment square.  You’d like it, it’s bright, clean, basic simplicity. I live alone – friends or visitors are not permitted here. Music awakens me at 6:00 AM. (We still use that same day time) and I’m prodded to get up and do my basic exercises. I speak to the agency (what you’d call an employer) or rather the agency speaks to me, while this is going on.  We don’t use phones – the apartment talks to you, wherever you are in it.

A built-in medi-scanner scans my body for any signs of stress, lack of rest, detects and makes notes for repairs needed for any minor imperfections found. Minor repairs and enhancement upgrades are done in situ by “the machine” – a sophisticated but unobtrusive auto-surgeon installed and programmed by the agency. The medi-scanner provides me information for changes I must make to diet, times spent exercising, studying, functioning (what you call work), morphing issues (explained later) and rest. I shower, then make my own breakfast. Not that I need to do this normally, but my city-defined function requires I practice this obsolete skill – more of an art actually. I enjoy it! (More on that later.)

My basic function as a corporeal entity:  I’m part of what you would call an escort service – though my function bears no resemblance to what would come to your mind.  By choice, I’m a provider. Such a function is now extremely important in a world that is less intimately earth-natural, though more challenging as we probe ever deeper into possibilities of corporeally reaching worlds beyond our solar system. To gain the greater it is necessary to sacrifice the lesser – but know that any sacrifice is from choice. We are evolving at a much faster rate than in your day. We welcome, we long for, the future; we do not fear it for it is drawing us.

In our heady plunge towards galactic and possible inter-galactic travel many old ways had to be abandoned. They were never practical anyway. Monogamous relationships, the nuclear family, these no longer exist.  Utterly impractical and full of old feelings that could easily drag us back into your dark ages through atavism. Adults with corporeal functions can have children – are encouraged to do so – and a child can have any number of parents, of either gender, depending on what “function” is desired of the child. Minds and bodies as well as personal genealogical history are probed, the results given to the prospective parents and details are sorted out.  From the results, a living mind is engendered and trained. When it reaches the age of self-sufficiency it is (usually, not always) given a body grown for its purpose.

The body may be perfectly human in shape, or not, again, depending on what the grown child has chosen as a function which could be other than what the parents initially chose. Those who choose non-human shapes are usually referred to as “neo-morphs.”  They would look very strange to you but are not thought of as being strange here.  After all, to us what matters is the mind.  In mind we are all human, or strive to be. A typical neo-morph could be a tiny human with several arms and elongated fingers or toes to move among computer terminals and service them, or install upgrades. It would be designed to be unaffected by electrical charges, yet it would be human, not android or cyborg, although these, as the neo-morphs, are a necessary and accepted part of our society and hold the same rights as any typical human.

The cooking thing – and other old-fashioned performances: Some agency clients practice old-fashioned tastes and expect their hired provider to cook.  Home cooking however quaint and decidedly wasteful is part of the pleasure I give to men who have no female partners by choice or necessity.  Sex isn’t the ultimate experience that people still seek from it in your time.  Now it’s the transient overall pleasure of present, corporeal femaleness that males, and also many females, seek.  Sometimes even children are supplied to create the illusion of a family.  These are not original beings, of course, but “partials” (morphed) supplied by an original in search of new experiences.  Then I become a “mom” to the child as well as “wife” to the man.  I enjoy that role but it’s a dangerous game. My feelings get aroused and mixed up. Amazing how quickly one can become attached to a human child or to a particular man! After say, a week (usually that is the extent of the “gig” as you’d call it – beyond that it gets prohibitively expensive for the client and emotionally draining for the provider) I need deep cleansing to release residual emotions. Deep cleansing is done at the agency and can take as long as twenty four hours to complete. It isn’t wasted time: it is turned into a time of study and exercise.

Please note here that I can only speak from a female perspective. The same role of providers are taken on by men. The agency probably has as many males “on call” as they do females. You could call it parity. The other thing to remember, it’s actually important for you to note this, is that some of us, like myself, have chosen our purpose for life. We are considered “permanents.” If I want to change my status, I have to earn the change or conversely I can do something unbelievably stupid to lose my position. For example, stealing something of value from a client, or resorting to cold, ignorant, abusive performance or refusing to comply to a demand that is clearly stipulated in the contract between client and agency.

There are many providers who choose to do this part-time, usually otherwise too occupied to engage even temp personal relationships, or who return from orbit on extended furloughs. There is choice; there is flexibility, yet there is control to prevent chaos.  All providers, permanents or temps, are registered with an agency, for convenience in making contacts and protection.

I am in demand because there aren’t as many “available” females as in your day.  Many who would normally be female choose to transgender to ease the problems of loneliness in off-world exchanges on alien ships or long-term orbiting station maintenance.  We have become waste-conscious and practical to a fault. Androgyny is common and trend is for hermaphrodite bodies now. Personally I chose a normal-bodied humanoid heterosexual female. I chose (past tense here) that form with the specific intent of using it to provide physical pleasure to equally “normal” heterosexual humanoid males who still have the same basic needs for full contact with females as they do in your day.  That male attribute, so twisted and denigrated in your day is now considered a great boon! My choice however is often overridden by the agency if a female wishes to have me for company.

I certainly do enjoy my function in society. I know I get at least as much from these energy sharing as do the clients. It may surprise you to know that often the sharing expected by men is of an intellectual and mental nature – problems that elude solutions are brought into the gentle intimacy of the temp relationship and I look at it from an individual female’s point of view – and feelings. There are episodes when “sex” does not come into play as we can become absorbed working with mind-images.

Socially, as females we are no longer underpaid corporate slaves or indentured “wives” tied to monogamous (monotonous!) relationships. We think of them as terribly unsatisfactory, oppressive and limiting, particularly for the women of your times and before. Women no longer bear children except in certain preserves or enclaves which are like your “native” reserves or wildlife zoos.  For example, there remain socially insignificant reactionary religious communities that are frozen in the old ways prevalent at the time of the Death. These are permitted to exist outside the City but not allowed to exceed a quota of procreation. Their activities are strictly monitored. We don’t care what they believe, or believe in but we certainly do care what they do. At this time the discussion is whether to sterilize them since their way of life is not only obsolete but no longer in accord with the aims of the City regarding earth.

There are isolated islands in the oceans where people live natural lives, growing their food right off the land and building shelters from raw natural materials.  These perpetuate humanoid mammalian behaviour for seed pools should something terrible happen (not as likely now) and for anthropological studies conducted from and by other *ISSA worlds.

In all of these “preserves” we have established safe stations where anyone who is abused or wishes to leave can escape to.  Once the safe station is entered, it locks and rises about one K and hovers until the occupant is removed by a shuttle.  The station then returns to stand-by on the ground.  We do not have permanent police on the preserves or islands; we only monitor, but any resident of such places who steps outside delineated boundaries is taken into custody and brought to a city’s evaluator to determine the cause and seriousness of the infraction and what is to be done. Serious infraction results in violators relegated to city memory; lesser ones may result in some limited mind purging and permission given to return to the preserve, particularly if they have attachments to a biological family.

Even though we have quantum technology and some limited faster-than-light transportation, many off-worlders still frown on us and limit our access to space beyond our solar system – they fear us.  So they study us, in great depth and with circumspection.  And so they should – always that danger of recidivism or atavism lurking on this world.  The history of earth as recorded on some worlds and seen through their eyes makes one cringe.  We have a joke about those who come here to study us: “Don’t worry, they won’t take you for a pet.  They know our bite is poisonous.”

For what it’s worth to you, let me assure you that as a species we have left a less than enviable track record for other ISSA beings to study. For many galactic ISSA species we remain persona non grata; dangerous, untrustworthy, murderous. Let me repeat it for you: we certainly did everything in our power, through our murderous and intransigent ways, to earn the fear and distrust of our galactic neighbours: not something to be proud of. It is of record that our termination as a sentient species was discussed and considered several times. Remind anyone with ears to hear of this for it is a reality of your times!

Back to my day: As I said, my apartment is clean, bright and basic. Every item here belongs to the agency.  Every piece of clothing or jewelry (if any is asked of me to wear in public) is categorized and identifiable by scan code from an implant. All my needs are met as they arise. Mere wants for physical objects are discouraged. If, without pre-authorization I bring home an item of no specific or immediate use, it is removed (you’d call it vaporized, it disappears) – recycled. Nothing of what I have belongs to me, not even my body. So you learn to not waste valuable energy uselessly, not to become dependent on gadgetry or even relationships that you own or that have the potential to own you.

They even scan your thoughts – not to keep you from thinking, but to the contrary – to evaluate and demonstrate how much “space” you are wasting in your memory and how you can improve it by not filling in the blanks with useless thought-junk. Yes, thoughts are energy and negative thoughts or lazy thoughts, are entropic. We can no longer afford that path.

Thinking progressively is what matters, not what you think about. New ways to improve your own performance greatly encouraged. Interaction with city facilitating, planning and design expected (the only kind of government we now have) and your input is logged into a special file within a mega department for the improvement of corporeal residencies and overall function.  Working out ways of making yourself more appealing, more understanding, more aware of your client’s needs and desires, this is good too.

You are expected to contribute meaningfully any talent you have to education, the arts, facilitating (governing) and general engineering. Your involvement determines your suitability when applying for your next performance level. It is also expected that I, as a provider, visit those non-corporeal mind-beings “stored” or held in City data for serious infractions. Such visits allow the incarcerated to be in proximity to a corporeal provider from whom they can derive a certain amount of vicarious pleasure and with whom they can share information.  Thus you provide up-to-date information for them to work with – think of it like bringing books or newspapers in a prison – and they feel less like *prisoners. If you are wondering what percentage of the mind population exists in storage, it is less than one percent and dwindling as atavism and recidivism is on the decline. I am hoping that with time, say a couple hundred years(?) we can do away with City data storage altogether.

I must point out here, or make it clear, that discorporate minds not in City data are free to go about wherever without any restrictions on their movements. Do we have a “mind police” should one of these is reported to have gone rogue? Yes, we do. Unfortunately, they are still needed and busy.

The other question you probably have is, how can you separate “minds” from “corporate entities”? With alien help we were taught how to separate minds from bodies. Much of it has to do with a new type of deep meditation. For rule-breakers who must lose their bodies, brainwashing and drugs are used to create the separation since it would never be done voluntarily.

Even our most die-hard materialists had to finally admit that a “mind” is not part of a physical body but is that which uses the body for its own purposes and ends. Thus we learned, when interacting with others, to address their minds, not their bodies. I do not own my body, it belongs to the agency, first of all, then to the City and by extension, to the world I live on.

What I am is a mind. My mind is me, always will be me, a recognizable individual with or without a body, living eternally unless for whatever reason, I choose annihilation in which case that which is ‘me’ and ‘I’ would no longer exist at all.

Why should we object to being minds without bodies? After all, we have been without bodies uncountable numbers of times between incarnations. We existed as individuals in non-physical astral realms and none the worst for it. It’s just that with bodies we can experience sensations and that is huge!

Are you wondering “who” it is does the monitoring, judging, expecting?  Well, we do – as a thought unit. We have become quite a body, and like a body, where we itch, we scratch. Sorry – bad joke.  Just call it species empathy. We inform ourselves, we feel, we experience, ergo, we know. Knowledge after all, is simply made up of two things: information and experience brought together. That tells you why minds so eagerly seek to join with a body: for sensual experiences.

End Part 1 of 3

The Day After


[a poem by   ~burning woman~]

It was a day long after
what happened didn’t happen:
denial was in full force then,
it made everything work,
and work was the order of the day.

There were warnings,
there always are warnings.
The planet was upset
sending signs of distress
in skies and seas and lands.

Birds, bees and butterflies
were less to be seen.
Fish left rotting carcasses
strewn across sandy beaches;
floating among the flotsam.

Violent storms, deadly droughts
succeeded chemtrails
and incessant burning of trees.
Smoke filled the valleys;
children choked in gun-smoke.

It would come, of course:
everybody knew it, everybody.
But promises and hope ruled the day
Larger bandaids were handed out
with flu shots and plastic smiles.

The day came, it was inevitable:
everybody had known the truth of it,
the inescapability of it.
Oh, it would have been a day
to be remembered.

Had there been anyone
to remember.





[thoughts of chivalry by Airin WilloWitch]

From the bowels of the Universe I was brought forth;
from the abode of those who carved the living stone
was I extracted from my ten billion year old bed.

Long before the story ever knew of sun or moon,
I travelled under the everlasting stars.
To the realms of the Great Elves I was taken;
there wrought, shaped and tempered.
There the blue flame of Altarïe was blended in my steel;
my hilt moulded of the purest gold.
No metal nor stone nor bone my edge could dull,
the hardest substances I absorbed unto myself.

Only the strongest grip could hold my hilt;
only the strongest shoulder could hold my weight;
only the strongest arm could wield my blade.

Where the great sword of Altarïe flashed,
the tide of battle swung and victory was gained:
did it matter to me who won? Who lost?
Many a nation has bowed to the conqueror
proudly holding his gauntleted hand upon my hilt;
raising my flashing blade before the charge.

Many a good man dead;
many a widow made;
many an innocent never saw the light of day
where my blade shimmered at the centre of the fray.

Many a city defended; many an attacker killed;
many an orphan protected and a virgin saved:
’tis not of me came evil or justice,
but of he who wielded my substance aloft.

Great cycles of years passed, kingdoms crushed
since sun and moon came to rule the earthen skies.
He casting his fiery light upon the high mountains,
filling the evening skies as with blood upon the seas.
She shyly staring at fields as covered with snow,
forever unsure of her place,
forever hiding only to return,
blushing pale under his fiery gaze.

I’ve known all the names
of man’s heroic sword wielders,
of Mesopotamia, of Greece,
Of Rome and the Kashmir;
of Arthur, of Roland, of Joan,
all came under my spell.

The last hero has fallen;
my light is extinguished.
I lie among rotting bones and crumbling mortar
yet always must I find my way out into the world

Though the great light of Altarïe may no longer shine,
for such hands as could strike fire in the likes of me
have long left this decaying and dying world,
here I do I remain.
More than a mere memory; potently waiting
for the heart that fills with desire;
the eyes that are sharp and far-seeing;
the self-empowered hands that grasp;
for the believer in chivalry
willing to challenge fate and change her world.

Hear me calling: I could be yours today.


The Gyre Sniffer

a short story by Sha’Tara
(inspired, in part, by the article, “Gyres” by Bucky McMahon
View story at

There are twelve of us aboard the “Gyre Sniffer” as we call our sloop. She isn’t pretty, but can take gale-force winds as if they be but a breeze. All her gear is top of the line. Our crew is the best of the best of the best as they so proudly say in the military.

Our job? Well, more of a lark, really, because we were all very well off and could spend money liberally, was to find the sea’s most horrific, deadly, large, stinky, poisonous floating garbage island. We had heard that it was guarded by a giant sea monster evolved from the materials it had found inside the floating plastic garbage.

We hadn’t had much results with satellite feeds or “Googling” our target and we didn’t care. Actually, we didn’t want to rely on advanced tech for this, we wanted it to be a sort of Moby Dick adventure. We were first of all, going to have as much fun as possible, even when we came face to face with the plastic sea monster and prepared to kill it.

It was Selina, the Portuguese girl, who was the first to throw her tablet and cell phone overboard. We remonstrated her about this, of course, but her reasoning was impeccable: they’re kin to what we’re searching for, follow them! We’d had a few drinks, the joints had been passed around and under the circumstances we thought she made total sense. That’s how serious we were.

We had managed a pretty good gender mix, five women, seven guys, everybody from late teens to mid thirties range and all of us totally freed from any sex taboos. When the sun shone we went about naked and enjoyed ourselves whenever in the mood, wherever we happened to be lying or standing, by reading and studying – yeah, right!

We ploughed on, using solar power to run our freezers, fridges, computers and minimal guidance systems, enough to avoid colliding with any cargo vessels we may encounter which to this point was none. We would get excited when we saw flotsam and made for it. But like Selina’s tablet and cell phone, they were on the way, not there yet. Since following was too slow, we calculated the flotsam’s direction and pushed on.

When high, a couple would jump in the sea for a dive and swim and more sex. Sharks? We figured in such an empty world they had better hunting nearer beaches. Yeah, we’d all seen “Jaws” – we even had a copy on a disk drive aboard. That’s how serious we were.

We weren’t so much interested in killing a monster. We certainly didn’t see ourselves as heroes. We were, to tell the truth, just a tiny segment of the earth’s richest “kids” utterly bored with our lives. We had met here and there, at parties, ski resorts, spas, even in board rooms, make that bored rooms, and in semi-drunken, stoned talk, had put this thing together. We ‘coagulated’ together as we discovered our mutual skills and sexual attraction.

We bought the sloop, had her completely overhauled, came up with the Moby Dick idea, geared ourselves up and met one foggy, dreary morning at some dead-beat marina along the Florida coast. We sailed, I mean that literally. We had thrown out the diesel engine and back-up gas engine also. We were going to sail, come hell or high water. If it meant it would be a one-way trip, so be it because nothing is worse than depression borne of absolute boredom.

Though we had this vague goal of finding a garbage patch and, mythologically speaking, finding a plastic sea monster circling and guarding it, the main point was to become the residents of an ark, the last and only remnants of humanity. So, we would enjoy ourselves, pleasure ourselves, to the hilt and to the dregs.

We ploughed on. The seas rose and fell as did our sloop. We got used to the sussuration of the sea against the hull and the music of the wind in the rigging. We got browner, tougher, smarter and quieter as the weeks passed. We began to see one-another, not just as fun partners or sex objects or casual acquaintances but as individuals; as people, as brains and minds with gorgeous bodies not just made for sex, but to admire and to remember, even in our dreams.

I dreamt of our elected captain, Sir Oliver Hampwell the Third, or “Cap’n” who was twelve years my senior.

As I thought about Cap’n I felt years slipping from my heart. I was getting younger and increasingly introspective. I found so much emptiness in my heart, I had to dig in our stores to find the classics Eugene and Mira had insisted on packing (though they had yet to pull out a single one.) I chose Moby Dick simply because I’d studied it in college but never actually read it. Certainly not to grasp the deep philosophy underlying the story. I read. I actually read. When approached by Darwin who’d been swimming and looked like he really had a ‘need’ I actually turned him down, me! “Not now, Darwin, I’m busy. Later maybe?”

“H’m… sure. I’ll find somebody else, no probs!”

That’s how it was with us. No one would ever insist on getting their way, they’d just find another way, someone else. I was ‘in love’ with all our guys actually, it’s just that I was discovering I developed ‘my moments’ when I had to belong to myself. It was nice to be desired, of course, but even more so to be understood and left alone in those times. I think one could say I was re-birthing myself, re-creating myself. Actually it would be more accurate to say that I was giving myself a life: I’d never really had one before.

We ploughed on. Less and less we listened to satellite radio feeds. There was so much traffic, so much noise, it jarred with our ocean-filled ears. We got more serious about life, more introspective, more eager to share and understand; to listen to another’s story. I would say, “Jesper?” and not “Hey you!” I wasn’t the only one changing, we were all going through it.

We became philosophical. Imagine that, us, the spoiled brats of a planetary elite, seeking the meaning of life.

“When we return to the real world, it’s going to be so different,” said the diminutive Suki. I wonder what I’ll do…”

“Maybe we won’t return. Maybe Suki, this is the real world and we all came out of an illusion. Maybe this ship will sink into the waves and we will become part of something so big we can’t even imagine it,” said Clive, our fabulous cook with the body of an Adonis. I didn’t want to see Clive drown, what a loss, it seemed to me then.

“We won’t sink, we’re past that now. We will sail, we will grow, we will learn more and more. We will all change, evolve. Best of all, we will seek and gain understanding. We will see signs and events in the sea and the sky no one ever saw before and that will make us both, certifiably crazy, and the wisest of people. We can never return to our old lives, you realize? Our past is non-existent. We can only go forward.” So spoke Cap’n, the wisest among us.

We ploughed on, the seas parting freely for the sloop’s proud prow. One sunny morning, with the spray shooting up, I walked up, naked, to the jib’boom to lie on it like a goddess figurehead pointing the ship in the direction of good luck, and a safe harbour. I made it, eyes full of salt spray and I saw the gyre-created island to starboard. I cried out, “Island to starboard!” and slowly worked my way back to a safe deck then joined in the work of rigging our change of direction.

We circled the plastic island for days, smelling the horror of it when downwind. We were indeed horrified. We thought there could never be a man-made disaster worst than this.

Then we heard the news as we were attempting to communicate our find to the “real” world: The US had just dropped nukes on North Korea and both Chinese and Russian nukes had annihilated the US surface navy and taken out most major cities of continental US and Europe. In automatic response, US and European nukes were heading for Russia and China.

Our monster had struck before we could confront it and it mocked us as it sang to us of the end of the world.


Send in the Clowns


In the midst of the other stuff, like writing rants, poems and a novel (thoroughly enjoying that part) I’ve also been reading many, many blogs and gaining more insight along the way.

This write is, first of all, a thank you to those of you who post that great stuff on your blogs and often also take the time to comment here.

While I’m at it, a sincere thank you for the many “Likes” and the re-blogs. There’s a feel good about getting those, kind of like a hug, or a kiss!

Now then, to some of those blogs I read. There are still quite a few that express, rightfully so, some great and deep concerns about Donald Trump as the president of the United States.

Very briefly, using that insight I mentioned, here’s how I currently see Mr. Trump.

For those of you old enough to have seen a real circus, some of those acts involved a trainer working with lions or other dangerous man-eating predators. It has happened that these predators, for whatever reason, revert to their natural proclivity to eat a human, and turn upon their trainer.

In the wings are clowns, trained to jump into the caged arena, to distract, disrupt, confuse the attacking lion, or lions. That’s where the expression, “Send in the clowns” comes from, not from “Barbra” Streisand’s song.

I see “The Donald” as the clown. He wasn’t actually supposed to get to centre stage, that spot had been earmarked for Hillary Clinton but somehow she blew it and the Clown was sent in.

The problem is that he was never meant to be anything else but a clown. He wasn’t trainer material. He didn’t have the body moves; he didn’t have the language; he didn’t even know the difference between a whip and a tweet. He wasn’t actually good at anything at all except being annoying and brutish. But he liked the idea of being centre stage and instead of blushing all over, apologizing and quickly making an exit stage left, he decided to go on with the show.

Sad, really.

Here are a couple of links to YouTube videos that go a long way to explain what’s currently going on, not just in Washington, but in Canada and in the world; describing in some clear details why things are as they are.

The first, 50 minutes long, is our own Paul Hellyer, once Canadian minister of defence.

The second, a bit long at 2 hours, is Dr. Steven Greer.

If you can take the time, these two “speeches” are worth their weight of wisdom to listen to. Conveniently for those hard of hearing both have reasonably good closed captions.

Paul Hellyer speaks on 9/11, the banking cartel, global warming and Roswell – 50 minutes

Dr. Steven Greer speaks on the Deep Deep State and explains why our democracies are in a shambles today.  – 2 hours. 


[thoughts from ~burning woman~ by Sha’Tara]

Something that puzzles me this morning. There are so many things that actually do puzzle me but this one, this one, takes the cake.

Balance. There is even an old Chinese symbol for it: the yin-yang.

 Yin-yang symb2
 As a general rule, at least for people who take a couple of minutes a day to actually think about something, balance is thought of as a good thing. Necessary.

Imagine a world not in balance we say, or a universe. We naturally assume we live within some kind of great see-saw which guarantees that we won’t get thrown off.

We assume that when ‘this’ happens over here, ‘that’ (being its opposite) happens over there and all’s well with the world.

Where did we ever get that idea from? Well, it has to do with belief systems and of course, brainwashing, a method of indoctrination that simply has no equal. Once brainwashed: addicted for life. Exceptions noted: they prove the rule.

Do we live in a balanced universe? Oh, never mind the universe, what do we know about that apart from nothing. What about this world? Is this an example of a balanced world?

Apart from the fact that through some freak of biology there is approximately the same ratio of males to females among the Earthian species, and if we don’t look too closely on how that little miracle is accomplished, what about the rest?

Balance in nature is achieved through a madness called predation. We call it that, what it calls itself is another story. Another approach dear to the heart is survival of the fittest. Through ripping apart, destroying, killing, murdering, we, or our world and us, achieve, so we are forced to believe, the wonderful state of balance.

Is there as much “good” as there is “evil” on this world, fact-wise? Could it be proven either way? No. So we look at whatever evidence is thrown our way and we see depending on the evidence we have access to and how we’re trained to believe.

While we’re focused on this see-saw, we do not see because we never saw. That’s the problem.

We don’t realize that we don’t have to believe in the see-saw.

Rather, using our own brains, or mind if we really are the daring sort, we can say, to hell with the see-saw. Balance is a joke, a lie. How can there be balance in any finite environment? Balance is an absolute, like love. You can’t have it, or do it, incrementally.

You can’t begin in unbalanced chaos, reach a state of balance, then lose it again in terminal chaos. That’s a fairy tale of gargantuan proportions. It’s a lie.

When we reach that elementary stage of reasoning we see it all crashing down, the yin-yang symbol becomes push-pull and tears apart, blood, guts and gore gushing everywhere.

We were lied to about balance? Oh surely no more than we were lied to about God, about politics, about economics. No more than we’re being lied to right now about everything.

Do we need balance? Should we be seeking balance? What are the benefits of balance, or who benefits from balance? I’m not going to dignify those questions with an answer because if you can’t see it, my answer would only cause anger. To a brainwashed person nothing is more insulting or threatening than a fact, or a truth, that exposes cherished beliefs as being carefully fabricated lies.

Imagine you’ve spent all of your born-again life dutifully paying for your favourite televangelist’s private jets and turning on the TV one Sunday morning he comes on and says, “Thanks a lot folks, but I’ve made enough money now and I regret to say I’m quitting: God is dead.” How could you possibly accept the fact that for once in his life your preacher was telling the truth?

The problem with balance is this: if I do good in the world, balance will demand… a balancing. The more good some people do, the more evil other people ‘must’ do. The conclusion is, do no good at all and no one else will have to do any evil at all. No good=no evil. That’s your perfect state of balance. That’s your wonderful *Brave New World.

I like to wake up in the morning with a great thought, a powerfully motivating thought, more important even than breakfast. This morning I had this thought. Knowing what I know now, if I were starting a family again, had my two sweet little daughters again, this is what I would tell them, each and every morning before they went to school:

“I want you to be nothing but kind, gentle, caring, accepting, loving, generous in praise and in offering help to all this day. Nothing else you do, or are told to do, is as important as this.”

When they came home and we had our time in the evening, I would ask them about their day, and how it all went. I’m sure they would have much to say about their experiences trying to live an alternative lifestyle! They might have even been subjected to mocking or to other indignities – all of which would prove my point about Earthians and their chuildren, but would go a long way to educate my own two children in the things that really matter.

But it does not end there. I would say to them, I have to be your example of the things I ask you to do, and to be. So when you see me failing, don’t let me get away with it. Call me up on it. Point it out. I am asking you to live the most dangerous life so you can be my teachers.

Forget balance, it’s a chimera.

(*Reference is to Aldous Huxley’s dystopian novel)