Drifter

Drifter

An excerpt from Tales of the Spaceways,
from the Sounds of Space sequence by Snake Apple Tree

Drifter

The space vehicle is quiet other than rhythmic humming sound of the generators soothing me subconsciously. 3D printed survival vehicles designed for establishing colonies in other universes, stripped back to the very basics so I did not have to be involved with the politics inevitable in any pioneer community. A man in a tin can.

Without distraction I have been living out here a long time, alone, drifting. I have left behind human civilisation because it is stupid. I am one of many of the first wave who were able to escape Terra, the planet we used to call Earth before things moved on. I orbit a beautiful star system the colours of which are difficult to describe in words. Breath taking. Spell binding.

The space vehicle provides for all of my needs other than the irritation of human company. I watch myself growing older slowly. I answer to nobody and do whatever I please at my own pace of life. I am patient and nobody is frustrated with me when I become frustrated. Nobody to tell me what to think and what to do. An ascetic practising the Tau of the Spaceways. I tend my food forest.

The space vehicle is cloaked, nobody knows I am here other than the military scopes which can see through commercial cloaking devices. They leave me alone as they know I am no threat at all. There are countless such as myself out here amidst the stars. Our bones grow frail without the nano meds. Our minds float free.

Most of my time is spent daydreaming, perhaps sleep dreaming, it is difficult to tell the difference. The hallucinations are real; psychological reports indicated that space travellers would experience this often. What they did not indicate is the number of us who would be sharing the same hallucinations. To my way of thinking this means they are not imaginary, there is something to it other than space craziness. Perhaps free of the pull of gravity and living in zero-g, a human mind perceives into other dimensions.

I have machines for company, various computer intelligences. Also I receive the long wave bulletin. It says that wonderful new machines have been invented back in the Milky Way which obviously I cannot access since I am so far out. I would have to step back into stasis. At first the long wave was a method of communication between distant colonies. It uses some type of sub space. Technologists have figured out how to send objects through it. A sort of transduction using quantum entanglement. A blueprint goes in at one end and an object is constructed at the other end using available local atoms.

I do not have such a receiver, mine has only an output speaker. The machine makes it possible for habitable environments in far away star systems to be created from custom designs, many light years before anybody can arrive there using conventional spacefaring methods. Wormhole technology or light beams or re-assembly devices will enable people to travel there as quickly as stepping into another world. The Spaceways have opened up. Humans embrace infinity.

The long wave is explaining how another of the new technologies is spreading like a plague back to the industrial home worlds. A symbiotic bio-technology which can provide for all human needs. There are even living space vessels whose organic systems create life support within their guts for human habitation.

As these things can be grown or born or however they are produced, there will soon be no need for industrial resources at all. Everything that people require is provided for. It is the end of societies based on limited resources. No more will trade and barter systems be necessary.

They have called them Dragon Craft although the spoken mutation of the colony worlds colloquial jargons pronounces it as Drakencroft. Its symbols are the Sun Serpent, the Ankh, the Tree (whose branches fold around like caring hands to form a crucible. Draco Ankh Raft. At once both primal and spiritual, Life vessel.

Universal symbolism the same as with our collective hallucinations. And this itself mutates, folding around on itself in a perpetual re-invention heralding next epoch. Twin solar deities in harmony (dRAka’nkRAft) ~ [d RA ka nk RA ft] together create the new phase of human development. It is a mythology made material. Ancient etymology reveals a new layer of meaning, has become relevant now we are ready to comprehend and integrate. I wonder how many others whose lifestyles have enabled them this level of clarity.

Much as I, the individual have dedicated toward a self image based on solipsism, social isolation; it is impossible to avoid that being a consciousness capable of accessing spheres of mind and a body wrought of the same flesh as the rest of my species; that we are all one thing, one entity, a singularity. The excitement of our progress rises through me despite the impossibility of my taking any part in it due to circumstance. I will never live to see the consequence of these breakthroughs in technology which enable social reform resulting in evolutionary breakthroughs in perception. Although I am that, I have done that to the extent my own generation enabled. The visionary goes beyond the immediate practicality. We are out of date before we are even begun.

And yet… there is the Tau and its hidden messages which reveal themselves only to its disciples. To live at the pace of breath. To contemplate and focus less on material density and more on spiritual awakening. The mind reaches out infinitely at frequencies of beyond time and mass. Some place exists in the Dreaming in which I already am born anew. As no form of energy stops, only transmutes; so too will my awakening self re-emerge elsewhere into a life and time where even the wonders of today will be aged. I contemplate in a timeless void, to connect with that one, to turn the mind into its own form of quantum transducer, to speak telepathically with my as yet unborn future incarnation.

I step into the stasis pod knowing that by the time I arrive back into the Milky Way such an antiquated device and that everything I have heard about on the long wave at this time will have become an obsolete technology. I am a museum piece. And yet, I am.

The Spaceways are filled with such.



©2015 SnakeAppleTree

CultureAndColony

Culture and Colony

We went up there to the high frozen north. Some went on and we thought them crazy, suicidal, those lands are impossible to survive. Some went back, most went back. We stabilized up there and our kids took our culture back to the lands we had travelled through, integrating with others who had settled on the way.

The frozen north gave us no time to mess about, minimalism happened. The bleak lifestyle was harsh, so we knew the elements, heat and cold, we knew the life things, water, animals. We relied on the catalyst of these spirits, to survive. We drummed, we told stories to keep our spirit alive and they are stories of how we survived and of the spirits which helped us. A white winter landscape does everything to change the soul yet is uninspiring for poetry, only the forlorn secret poetry, the long study that takes winters to know and to appreciate because we cannot tame all that. Cannot pass shivering information to kids, they need bright and colourful. They need not know the chattering concerns of spirits and sight developed as we age, they need optimism and preperation for the things which will concern them. The importance of making connections between all things, the weave that nothing is wasted. Animal skin and animal fat, animal meat and animal spirit. Fire, ice. Nothing else up here in the north. The northing and the thorning cold.

As we bred and expanded we needed more resources than these lands can provide. The returning ones in the less frozen lands we came through have plants, make wood carvings, have more room for diversity. Our winter-catalysed blueprint on them expands to include more developed culture. As we settle, no longer explorers, into a place better fitted for human life, the weave and the stories are carved and remembered through a few generations, tales of the elder days fuel our imaginations. Artifacts take on life of their own and become their own spirits in the same way the elements became spirits. Our awareness of the spirits of these things existing independantly of our awareness grows stronger. The new generation of spirits made by the elders and a desire to make yet further new ones more appropriate to our now lifestyle. This distills into a culture, a pantheon of stories we all identify with, we all know. In part histories, in part mythologies. This is set into a naturally developed form. This is taken by those specializing in recognizing it and expands further back toward the other cultures forming around us, trade cultures and so through the stories of those cultures and our own interchange, common ground is founded, stories so bright by their brilliance we respect them despite their evidently being from such a different and established cultural traditions with different references than our own. Different spirits, exotic elements. We teach our kids flavours of places far away by remembering the travellers tales. Good stories hold their elements well.

We make peace and we make war. Love and Anger. The children born into war make peace with our enemies and our long time trade allies betray us. Our edges are defined thus, by borders geographic, by borders emotional, mental; social. Where the elements are impenetrable and cannot be worked around, we accept defeat at this time, continuing questioning, will it thaw, will it soften, will it yield.

Stories return to us in a form we can accept from other worlds. How the harshness of space has changed those who left this planet. How the other worlds where our descendants make home are changing them. For cultural gestation to be done properly and with respect of, awareness of, have learned from the lessons of the past, we do not migrate our warlike nature there wholesale. We do not want macdonalds on the moon, we do not want the corporate bank of saturn nor even the royal monarchs of mars. We want our colonists to have every chance to become what we feel they should, and can, if given the chance. We give them that chance; a life-raft and autonomy from the outset because they need it, deserve it. Without the full, true spirit of pioneering, they will lack the drive necessary to survive beyond mere consumer estate reliant on imported necessities.

It is the next wave who will travel there on a beam wearing the dogma of earth cultures and infect them with our own progress, a wave that has been assimilated by transumanism and all share the same google-brain hive-mind telepathic database programmed acceptance and happiness, which is necessary on earth to avoid the war of global apocalypse, which is necessary to transit planet earth from capitalism based global monoculture to a more humane and artistically led community. Because a part of earths nature is primal and aggression, as much as its life is symbiotic and creative.

Meanwhile the colonists have become their own small nation, teaching us of their discoveries, of their elements, feelings and thoughts. From a different gravity well comes different synaptic connections, different perceptual connections. Poems teaching insights no earthling to use the derogatory term, terran to use the transhumanism term; could ever have come up with. We do not have that colour in our skies, that texture in our lives. The spirits of the new worlds are something new for us to experience and be affected by.

This has already began. The public on earth are not informed of it because we are not ready to accept it as a reality. In its early days the colonisation of the other worlds, even the technologies that made it possible, were so enshrouded in secrecy and necessarily so, that several generation later we are questioning if they really exist; should the question not be whether we are ready to be informed? You who reads this assumes it to be science fiction because it is mentally safer for you to do so, it is more normal and acceptable for you to do so, to ignore the actual evidence because of the mainstream order of the day. It is designed thus.

This is how the telepaths of other worlds get the message through to you, we use the minds of your creatives to share the knowledge. Our moons configure our minds in just such a way as it is possible to do this, it is different for you on planet earth where instead you have vast rainforests and oceans, the beauty of your planet.

We hope that you can stop the destruction of those things.

We hope you can accept that you as an individual are directly having a consequence on the destruction of those things.

We hope that you can accept, even if you do not save your world from ecological collapse because you destroyed it with your inability to rethink your life and society, return to permacultural ways of pioneering colonists instead of reliance on convenience consumer culture; that you can accept humanity has at least continued on other worlds even without your direct awareness.

You cannot travel to the stars to bring toxins to other planets.

But you can begin to heal your own, right now as soon as you finish reading this.

And if you will not heal your planet, perhaps you will do what you can to heal some of the people around you.

This is the message from the stars.

Copyright 2015 

immortal society

The invisible community, also known as the immortal society.

The ones who are meant to, do. Remember that. The spirit voice takes control of me when i enter the house and come into peace. It begins to write through me. I do not want to be the tool of the spirit voice and struggle to write my own words. It is trying to guide me mainly by advise but also in my learning through the experience of it happening. It used the word house, "it is his house", just as i shrugged it off my mind to give me the space to think straight about what is happening enough to write about it. I feel it inside around my cranium wrapping into my brain, cradling it at the edges until it comes down through the center core of my brain to assume ownership of my kundalini. This happens to me so often i do not even notice it most of the time. I see the shapes of it like fire dancing around a matchstick. It is his house because he owned it before he died here, before i came. In voodoo the word house is used to describe the mind of the host, its function as a tool. When i began to explain to people that this is what is going on in my life, that i am becoming a spirit medium, they accused me of hearing voices and misdiagnosed me as mental health, for which i have been put onto long term benefits. It is my real experience of life and the more i research different indiginous cultures spirit beliefs the more sense it makes in describing what i am experiencing. Caucasian culture has very little knowledge base of this remaining from within itself because the pagan celtic shamanic wisdom keepers were lost where they thrive in other parts of the world. If it was false information that serves no real purpose, humanity would have dropped it from all over the world long ago. The word civil means to make civic, as in governed. Distaste for spiritism resulted because a culture actively involved in spiritism is less easy to govern than a mind control culture. Explaining to people that they are those mind control victims is not easy. That this is a real human tradition and a normal part of life. People with zero attention to it do not see it. Where science shows scientifically that spirits do exist, is not something the civic authorities can govern nor do anything about. The spirits have their own agenda because they are us and we are them, always moving toward its own perfect gravitational harmonic partner, in and out of the material world of time because time and mass are intrinsically linked, that is what energy is there are even scientific ratio's for it. Some of us remember it as a continuity better than others, because we can picture it to have a grid to hang our memories on to learn the shape of it and because we remember it well enough to see it as a grid. It is multilinear the grid is a spoke and all the other spokes are flares all coming into one central destination which we are rainbows from each at a marginally different frequency. Waveforms ride through the rainbow. It is multidimensional, these other parallel spokes of our journey. We are holographic projections: outward from the core and the return from the very finest ping of it the needle razor sharp tip. A spiky sea urchin shape but its spikes are grids. Is it where it ends or where it becomes more refined higher dimensional form of light? Ultraviolet spectrum entities. Between the matchhead and its flame is a gap, in which heat and match meet. It is invisible to our eyes yet so much is happening in that place. The third eye sees this stuff when it is activated, i have been eating turmeric and spirulana to decalcify it for a few days. Most people have fluoride rich diets which atrophies the pineal gland so they cannot see the flame to understand the match and its purpose, to decipher the invisible energy exchange. The medium learns this as a part of shamanic awareness, it is part of what shaman do. I am not the most advanced but by Thoth am one who was trained to write and so i can get this far in explaining it to whoever reads this. Most of the work is done not by writing which is so slow, but at immediate speed of thought. This manuscript is necessary.