Showing posts with label subculture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label subculture. Show all posts

Sunday, 6 December 2020

Concrete & Blue



“Why do you call me?” I asked, hiding empathic tears behind a mask of professionalism worn for her benefit to ease her into acceptance, not of me who she had already chosen to engage with but of herself who she had not yet. 

“I feel I have a hedgehog for a heart.” She stated in monotone. It might easily have been a choked voice if she had put emotion into her statement. She was not at that place. Her heart felt more like a stone to me, a nut with a hard shell. It’s seed could not break through without pain and greater effort than she alone could muster. Her voice, true voice of her heart, was dead. Her experiences had made her concrete. 

I gave her blue. She dreamed. 

“A porcupine whose spines burst open as peacock feathers, can you imagine what that would look like?” 


Unlocking the keys to genetic modification is already an existing technology. We already have bioluminescent trees and pavements in some cities. 


Within bdsm culture, once you have sifted through the available egotists and abusers to discover that rare, authentic Master, the training provided is equivalent to genetic science for the impact it can have in personal transition toward liberation, personal enlightenment and empowerment, using known methods, based on the principle of developing trust between socially kinked individuals by application of those methods. 


Yet a lot of people are afraid of it and resent it. They judge it. And yet, they know nothing about it. 


“I feel like I need the pain to get back there, to relive it, to heal it. It’s not that ‘I like pain’ so much as I feel dead without the stimulation training my nerves to wake up and feel alive. It’s what trauma conditioning does to people. That’s well documented.” 


She expressed with unusual clarity the attraction of such a lifestyle, shared her understanding of how it could help her by providing what she needs to find her way back to wholesomeness. “I can’t do it alone. I tried...” the scars, blade marks where she had inserted metaphorical hedgehog quills attempting to go deep enough into herself to fix the problem. 


It is not the physical act of torture and in extreme cases self-mutilation. The goal is to go deep enough into the soul to bring healing. One becomes symbolic for the other and therefore a gate through which to access it. Emotional and mental trauma from abuse and bereavement affecting relationships and self-harmony ability to function. 


The act is not the purpose. The act as a result of the purpose. The act of cutting a piece of wood is not the purpose. Having furniture to store things safely is the purpose. You don’t look at a person wielding a saw and label them as destructive, you label them as creative. 


That we can understand any experience a person going through as a step in the process toward a purpose. The experience is not the purpose. The consequence is the purpose.


It is this awareness which proves the difference between a master who knows what they’re doing, and an abuser exploiting novices within a culture. 


Neither is it grandiosity and egotism for the master serving the submissive. The master provides and aims to fulfil a purpose, that of healing, of harmonising and enlightening the submissive. 


This is not a simple task of kinky activities for the sake of kinky activities. Nothing is done without purpose. Every activity serves purpose. 


The observer sees only the physical, perhaps also audio and olfactory universes, and some level of empathic sympathy. The observer is a voyeur for their own sensory pleasure. Their presence if known may serve to stimulate the submissive toward a specific and pre-considered state. That is their function. 


The experience of the submissive is wholly encompassing, for it is real as a lived experience. The tastes involved invoke reaction. The nervous system reacts a determinable way, this is by intention. Hormonal release is controlled by the mistress or master. The submissive is being altered, neurologically, emotionally, psychologically. 


Our state of being is held in our body. In our stance, in our poise. Our past attachments are worn. These are massaged, counselled, through the act of bdsm experiences. 


BDSM primarily is not a physical activity. It is holistic. The trust relationship between Dominant and Submissive parties is the core principle of the bondage. The relationship in a word. 


Not Love although the development of that is a beautiful thing. It is Trust. 


For the submissive this means stepping into the unknown. Crossing the boundary to learn from experience what is on the other side. Until then the boundary is merely fiction. 


The Dom operates through whatever known means necessary to provide the service of holistic enlightenment of the sub. 

 

Bondage 

(relationship as addiction, trauma bonding, liberation)


Discipline 

(of others and self-discipline for all parties)


Domination and Submission 

(realms of consent, brats, slavery)


Sadism and Masochism

(providing a service through means known to work vs enjoyment of suffering) 








Sunday, 14 January 2018

Proxy Kill

Proxy Kill


"I will not hurt any student, and I will protect all learners from harm. I will remember that there is art to learning as well as science, and that caring, empathy, social, emotional and physical development are as critical as intellectual achievement. I will apply, for the benefit of each student, all available instructional supports and resources, in the knowledge and conviction that we each learn differently, and that everyone can learn." socratic-oath-for-educators



Socrates, the "father of western thinking" was forced by controlling society to drink poison for their perceived crime of corrupting youth.



0. pre-med
In the first decade of the 20th century, Snake Apple Tree wrote a serial of short stories entitled The Murder Chronicles (aka New Murder Fiction). 

It was published incomplete to www.snakeappletree.co.uk

This has nothing at all to do with;  Liang Yaosheng's works of same title or R. Barri Flowers works of same title or the-line-up's interactive fictions of same title or anybody else using the same title which quite clearly is collectively a shareware title under no formal copyright property. 

Snake Apple Tree's serial as a complete includes both the final (unpublished) chapter(s) and also other short stories not included in the published core. They were not published due to their personal nature. The serial is billed as being semi-fictionalized accounts of true stories. They are tales from the underground; official records always show very different versions of events. This is because the official versions are cover-ups by a corrupt society.


The following are chapters of the final novella (Proxy Kill) of the serial. 

IN MEMORANDUM. 




1. basis

Manufacturing a collective operational base which holds a paradigm and enforces it upon target. 
The paradigm enforces depression upon the target of such severe intensity that the target commits suicide.

Everybody says "its a shame" and enjoys their suffering of the loss of the target from the collective. 

In animal species we observe this behavior. Example, a murder of crows (collective noun for a flock of crows in English language is 'murder') will peck to death the weaker members of the flock, increasing the amount of available food scraps to scavenge for the stronger members. This maintains the health of the flock while being a bitch for the target. 


2. control

Trying to control the target. 
Enforcing a false paradigm, establishing it in the mind of zombi's as the officially endorsed collaborative agreement, the dominant narrative.
Instead of respecting nature, intuition, spirit. 
Aboriginal map of reality has three circles: the world of nature, the world of Spirits, the world of Humans. The world out of balance is the world which accepts only Humans as valid and Nature to be exploited, and dismisses the world of Spirit as make-belief.
Shaman integrate it as Truth. 

The excuse to protect 'vulnerables' from those who can and want to help.
The result is: 
Without help, the vulnerable kills him/her self.


3. Luci

Luci was 14. 
I was 28. 

I saved up and bought a Japanese fretless blue electric bass guitar. 
Luci saved up and bought a red electric fender guitar. 

The first time we met was in the street, both in the glow of yielding our tools which were finally in our possession, on that first day of ownership. 

Bang! 

There is magick in instruments. 
There is even more magick in music.
There is magick in the universe to have put this coincidence together. 

We are but cogs in an intergalactic, multi-dimensional machine the mechanics of which are far, far beyond our understanding. The very best we can hope for is to recognize some small glimpse of this, through the divine worshipful connection of, when we trust our intuition, when we let music flow through us without mind getting in the way, when we have sex. These are the three principles of divine worship.

Luci was dark and worshipped dark gods with blood and sex magic.
She had a shrine to black metal and goth. 
She had candles and spoke a language I have not heard in several incarnations. 
A young witch coming of age, wise far beyond her years and obsessed with Jungian Shadow. 

Luci and I did not have sex. 
We did play music.
We did talk about psychology. 
Luci was depressed and cutting herself deeper each time. 

I had recently finished doing counseling nvq2 and frustrated that the red-tape limitations of doing it professionally for money through the state would make any real attempt at actually fixing somebody, not possible. The girl needed emotional and mental support, she needed a hug. She needed a fuck but being only 14 in a nation which kills paedophiles and where the age of consent is 16, we did not go there. We could have and it was a potential between us. Some other lucky brat would have to sort her out that way. I proved my parental responsibility. We behaved in accordance with social conformity despite occasionally facing down natural instinct together. 

Our relationship was mostly defined by music tutor and counselor. I lent her cd's and guitar effects boxes. We both used the same software, so I taught her some of the tricks I have learned with it. It helped her to focus on creativity instead of self-destruction. Her family members who got to know me and who trusted me remarked the positive influence I was having on her. She stopped cutting so often. Her scars began to heal. 

The prejudice twats did not like me sniffing around a vulnerable minor. 
They did not like the age gap. 
They beat me up in the street. 
They knew where i lived.
I stopped visiting her. 
That was my mistake. 
She nose-dived.
She cut too deep.
She dead now. 


4. Popi

After the tragedy of Luci I traveled to get over it. 
I trusted my intuition and I went in that direction, regardless. 

I found myself in the Valley. 
From the outside, the Valley is the last retreat of free people in Britain.
It does have an internet site and it is described on there as;
"Survival lifestyle"
There are no facilities.
It is entirely based on people and people skills. 
A place where free people can go to develop skills not even known about by the city slaves and their mindless polluting conformity.  

Drink water and wash from the stream. 
Import food or grow your own. 
The Valley is surrounded by forest. 
The community is organized well enough that a daily shit-bucket collection takes your toilet from your bender and deposits it in the community compost. 
Kids born there are educated locally and not by state school. 
It is hardly Canada and the reserves, but its the closest thing to it in UK. 
Everybody knows everybody. 
Everybody knows everybody's business. 

A culture in miniature highlights the issues which all cultures face.
Politics is as rife in the Valley as it is in the city. 
It is also somewhat of a tourist venue for those curious and able to find it and get there. 
Everyone lives openly, which is to say everyone has the same STDs because with a very small population of very open minded people, liberal people gonna do what liberal people gonna do. 

Popi grew up there. 
At 15 Popi had enough. 
I heard about Popi. 

Popi a Bright in the context of the 2017 movie Bright (directed by David Ayer)
Everybody loved her. 
Popi was the most free spirit the Valley had produced, of a population who uphold being a freespirit as the ultimate Human Right and Aspiration.
My intuition screamed at me that I have to connect with her.
As soon as possible. 
I asked around.
The community protect.
People do. 

"No mate, you ain't going near our Popi."
"Ye well thanks for making me feel like a wolf after a sheep but there's more to it than that." 
"We don't know you."
I looked her square in the eye.
"I am True. You don't know Truth."

I wasn't though. Had i been True i would have gone direct to her.
My mistake was a preconception that I needed to go through other people to find her.
The Valley works its mysterious charms; to take, to give, to set its own balance.

I knew that by connecting with Popi I could set her toward a path she needed to be on, and that it had to be me because nobody else could do it. Because of the primal nature of energy and how it dances, electromagnetic. I cannot explain this without sounding crazy to the crazy people. 

I had seen the girls spirit and connected with her in dream. Because brights stand out in the darkness and I have stared into that darkness so much that I can see the motions of brights, their colours which have meanings, where and how they flow, and ebb. I saw the imminence of her ebb.

The valley closed its cultural gates against me. 

I saw her ebb extinguish and I cried. 

Later, i heard that Popi had killed herself. 

Those who knew her explained, she had been trying to get away from the valley and its controlling culture. She had nowhere to go. 

I returned to my empty flat in the city which was a gate to so much of the multiverse. 

Another light gone out. 


5.Toni

Soon after that I encountered a young teenage boy crying on the back doorstep of a church at the back of my apartment. I asked him whats up? Sat next to him. Talked. He opened up to me. 

"Social services has forced me into adoption with a woman who does not feed me and hits me." 

He showed me the bruising.

"The teachers don't care. The police don't want to get involved. So I have run away. I don't know where to go." 

I could not take a vulnerable minor into my apartment alone without putting myself at risk. i do not operate that way. 

I was returning to my apartment to eat because I had not eaten for a day or two. Neither had Toni.
I suggested we buy food from the shop, which we did. Moving the body in walking is a step toward going forward, motion, holistic metabolic system regulating itself toward balance, starts the healing. He stopped crying and had a goal now, albeit temporary and small but the food would help.
He is eating my food, technically not my food but food I had bought. My energy is going into him with it. His configuration would shift and align with mine. This is how energy works. Idiots do not see it this way.
We discussed his friends and their parents being home, people who know him and can help. 
He was missing the hell out of his old friends, his old school, his old life. He had been banned form seeing any of them by his foster mother.
We visited his friend in another part of town. He was grateful that I knew the route. 
His friends parents were out and I did not want to drop him off there, it felt bad.
We visited another of his friends in another part of town. 
We borrowed the phone to call Toni's mother and she told him to fuck off.
The friend phoned his own mother and arranged Toni could stay the night there. 
She likes Toni and knows him well.
This felt good. The healing Toni needs even if only for one night.
I did not know what else to do.
Had I called the authorities, the police &/or social services, it would have betrayed Toni's trust for me and it would have caused him more problems. 
He would have run away again with nowhere to go.
He would lose trust in other people and his ability to trust others would be damaged.
Shaman are healers. We are advanced at emotional psychology and at psychology. 
We do our best to do the right thing.
I did not see Toni again but I did see a few of his friends sometime later who told me that he had gone back to his foster mother's and they hadn't heard of him since.


6. This list continues. 

Many more examples. People would rather drive their kids to suicide than allow a shaman to heal them. This is UK 21st century. I do not regard any of this to be my failing because I tried damn hard to prevent those who I could see are going to do it, from doing it. Everyone who was binding them to the path of self destruction did everything they could to get rid of me by labeling me as the danger element, as an unknown, as a potential risk. 

There is a beautiful tradition that by remembering to others the lesson of a persons life, is to honour that life.
 






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