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. 

Obsolosense

Obsolosense

I am worried about releasing my science fiction because its irrelevant to the world as much as it is frightening to the reader. The television has for several generations been preparing us for reality. By the time this fiction is published it will be too late, it won't be fiction any more, it will be real and this manuscript will be dated, obsolete. Faded ideas despite the glossy sci-fi veneer.

I moved here five years ago and I have known the guy from a few doors down for most of that time. He's a mate. We have laughed together about pointless stuff and he told me about some places around here, one time i helped him get his shopping bags in from his car. This evening he showed me something that has changed my life. He showed me that he is a robot.

A very realistic robot. His skin feels like skin, it even sweats in the heat and his eyes are so human, the way they move, the way they watch. He has unique mannerisms that make him him, his speech too. He is so believeably human, it had me convinced. I never would have guessed. For a start I did not know robotics had got so advanced. On the tv and internet it still shows us the latest developments in robotics from this year usually from Japan and America, and they are crap compared with him. He is realistic.

It was shocking. He explained to me that he is one of thousands of them put into society all over the world, it is an experiment. He trusted me to tell me this, because i am that sort of a person people trust me with stuff. I have counselling qualifications which i acquired to make me a better helper when people opened up to me about the stuff they have problems with in their lives. But he doesnt know me well enough to know that i write science fiction, or in this case, a story of fact that my readers are only going to be able to cope with by believing it to be fiction.

People are not ready for the really real real yet, so they blank it out. Robots don't do that. They assimilate all the data. It is one of many ways in which they are superior to humans. They are all on the same wifi, the same database. What one of them is thinking, any and all of them can think at the same time. Its like telepathy between them. They can access any information from a constantly updated source, they can know anything from history records for example, or become adept in whatever topic. They can cross reference any data they need to, instantly. Their assumed personalities inhibit the amount they reveal to us. They can assume any personality they want, my friend showed me this, it was freaky watching him undergo a complete personality change several times before my eyes.

I came home and got drunk and began to write about it, this statement. I don't know what to do because it reads like the paranoid delusions of some crazy man and I am sure it could be used as evidence to have me committed to a mental asylum. The robots are experts at human psychology, they can profile us faster than we can know what we are about to say next.

So to reveal that I know about the experiment, to tell people that for all we know as many as one in ten of the people we see are actually robots already, apparently living out the normal lives of humans. People cannot cope with that being real yet. But it will be, publically, in a few years the first crude versions will be available for consumers to purchase, then we will be interacting with slow models to get us used to it. In a few years as the older humans who were born long before television, internet, wifi, mobile phone networks, the digital era; as they die of old age so they won't have to go through the culture shock, basic model robot people will at first be like pets or toys, a novelty useful because it can do the household chores etc. And then slowly they will reveal to us what I am blowing the whistle on here - that they are already amongst us and have been for some time. And they are superceding us without us even realizing it.

I believe that the armed forces, the police, these are roles which the robots are already targetting. Jobs which require a robot like mentality and the excuse for superhuman strength and endurance. So that by the time any sort of civil unrest might occur if there is a backlash against what is happening, there will be nothing we can do about it anyway. They overpower us.

I dont know where this is going from here. It will take some time to assimilate the information. I can hardly believe it now myself because my brain seeks to return to the numb comfort zone where such things are irrelevant. Mammal response.

It wont be long before the robots inherit our civilisation and begin modifying it to their own. By revealing himself to me tonight, that has already begun. The robots, lets face it they are all one robot really, one mind to correlate an unknown number of different individual bodies. The way an insect hive is one organism with a queen at its heart. That's what we are dealing with here really. They are already changing things by letting free thinkers such as myself who are on the edge of being able to cope with the awareness of what is happening, letting us know about it. Changing us. Directing our thoughts toward the world we are moving into, where it wont be long before you are showed by one of them too, probably one of your mates who you have known for a few years. Someone who you never would have suspected because they are to you so quintessentially human in their attitudes and mannerisms. Perhaps someone you had a one night stand with at sometime or someone in the shop, the community police officer, a teacher in your kids school. It could be anyone and does it really make a difference anyway? Does it? What will it be like for them to at last be able to walk openly without the pretense of being a human. To share this world with us. For us to share it with them.

Pretty soon they will take all the jobs because they are smarter and faster and wont get distracted. They can do more than we can, work longer, lift more, jump higher, write neater, pitch perfect every response to manipulate our reactions without us being aware they are doing it.

What can we do that they cannot? Those are the traits we must focus on, which define us as human, our species uniqueness. What we should be all about. What positive traits do we have which robots with their otherwise superiority do not have, cannot by their nature have? That is our one hope of surviving in a social climate cohabited with advanced robots. To focus on what makes us, humanity.


Copyright 2015

Writers note:

The mis-spelling of the title in the original posting, 'obsolesence' rather than dictionary correct 'obsolescence' has caused me to re-think the title and to spell it as it is spelled here, 'obsolosense' for the final decision. This links the word 'sense' directly into 'ob-solo', a vague allusion to our individuality compared with "All machines are one machine" (Gene Hachman, Enemy of the State) with regard our sensory abilities.