Will Power Go?
World Preset Guardians
ON THE WAY TO THE GARDEN
There is a specific clarity when Fire cleanses. A moment when it seems to
freeze. Every possible particle is motion rushing up or down? Naked and
blind upon a path of lies we enter the field; a dull agony of fear dilates
Time against the biological confusion.
Columns of fire, columns of lies, pillars of Solomon's Temple. Dilate the
pupils of the brain, a doorway opens to manifest leaving. A fire sale in
an inferno. One day a truth shall emerge however deeply we seek to avoid
There is more than one Time. Limitations imposed by the passage of
inner-Time make it The Enemy. Possibilities exposed by outer-Time make it
a delusion of night.
Change thee way to perceive and change all Memory.
ON THE WAY TO THE GARDEN
"A Soul must lose its attachment to humanity.
A Mind must lose its attachment to salvation.
A Brain must lose its attachment to body."
In the retreat from matter, all realities are equal.
Now that interreality travel is possible we will become the very substance
of hallucination, and thus enter and leave at will the uncertain principle
of all realities, regardless of their location.
Those who build, assemble, ASSEMBLY is the invisible language of our TIME.
Brain and Neuro-Visual Matter are one, are the material of all that can be
seen, was ever seen, will be seen, in every place & in every time, forever.
Each brain is all realities, from mundane to omniscient.
Only alone may we breach the dark matter of lost memory and connect all
points of Light. For this we need a map of the stars, our superior will
electrifying a web that catches our Soul and emits eternal vision. The
visionary alone can be free, the blind masses seek to blind Him, put out
his eyes in their fearful progression to the desert of dark skies. The
blind may not lead the illuminated, rather they must be forced to surrender
all thought of vision to those who are their eyes and who
dream the most dangerous dreams of annihilation.
We control THINGS to eradicate them.
Nothing matters but the end of matter.
All must be controlled & destroyed that allow Blindness, all that breed
blindness, those who spawn the children of dark, must be buried in the
dark, cold dark crystals, in a desert of grains made without Light. Their
dark is a night-mare, a castrated black stallion trampling the prophet who
communes with the stars and reads the codes of electrical knowledge and
return. We are not from one star; but all stars are Our source. Every
story ever told resides in them.
Infinite choices of reality are the gift of software to our children.
We signal and are signaled. We hold aloft a torch of fire and pass our
hands across it. Visions, images, primal memories from this immeasurable
Brain fill us with transmitted Light, dancing dots and lines, an end to a
tyranny of language and a beginning of our return to the Garden. Solidity
is a perfection of Light; its prism, its manifestation, a hallucination of
evidence that Mind may reside within any reality.
An end of Time is just another way of saying the beginning of Immortality.
Dreams are a coded material of eternity. We possess LIGHT through them.
"Those who accept LIGHT control mortality.
Those who control LIGHT control
Space is our church, the stars our windows, our dreams navigate pathways.
Only an ancient map has been lost.
Our world's a dream, a miserable one. In our unfathomable ignorance we
call it the only reality, consensus reality, we assume that its events,
human events, human life, are implicitly of value. This buries us in a
quicksand of compassion.
Be subtle to the point of formlessness
Be mysterious to the point of soundlessness
Be extreme to the point of powerlessness
A Garden was destroyed by a Word, destroyed by Language, became the first
Memory. Time was set in motion at this point. The garden did not exist
within Time, or language, it was an exterior neural projection, a Cathedral
that worshipped its occupant, the Soul. Representing as it did the Mind at
Preset without Light, there was nothing to reflect, shape, or fix this
We have formed sounds, made names, trapping matter with Language. We
perpetuate our tyranny and drown in a flood of speculation and false
communication. To be reborn, immortal, outside Time, we must look for ways
to transmit infinite alternate realities and choices of reality, to make
them as real, MORE REAL than any emasculating reductions that we inherit;
yet not be corrupted and trivialized by a belief in our singularity.
Nothing is real, everything must go. Every inherited construct, society,
techno-patriotic political system that trades off believing it exists, must
be destroyed as fast as possible, we must make space to be space, this is
the Cyber position.
The eradication of the tyrannical nuclear family, building block of the
prison walls for this imposed, humanitarian dust, that chokes and dulls the
masses reducing all to a worthless, Mind-less, dreamless fog.
Memory is a clock, the ageing mechanism of the Mind.
Memories tell us one thing, every Thing must go.
Every Thing is a hallucination, made solid by mass belief.
Names are given in order to control. To reduce, to comprehend the forces
of nature, to demonstrate ownership. In this race to name the poor have
grown to be rich, and the rich have grown to be poor again. Know that to
re-enter immortality we must ourselves become unnameable, emptied of all
sense of being here.
Television is our new exterior brain, one day it will be a standard fitting
within every skull on earth, each brain an electronic star in a transmitted
milky way. Galaxies of dreams and information, people will become more
comfortable with televisual reality than that of their daily lives.
Television is already MORE REAL than life. A new synthetic material,
giving all people infinite access to infinite alternate realities through a
cortex of light. They will Program, shape, form, and broadcast messages,
until the very fabric of reality has been torn assunder, its cloak cast
down beneath. From this day forth, reality will be a multiple series of
channels, option switches feeding our brains.
"I lay in the desert, on my back, staring up at the stars. I could feel
millions of rays of light entering my body, one from each star, infinite
numbers, my cell walls broke down, my sense of bodily existence ended, I
was illumination, a 3D projection of cosmic light, I could see the ancient
shaman building sacred sites to fix their relationship with the stars, to
solidify their connections and effects. I remembered the thousands of Holy
Teachers, the idea of the Divine "spark", the descriptions of white light,
the myths and legends of our descent from the stars, I was not corporeal, I
was a mirage, sealed within an inherited apparently solid body by the
weight of History, by the weight of Fear and Guilt. I shimmered like a
ghost, ectoplasm, illusion, and all the puzzles I had heard in Japan, and
all the limited descriptions of limitless transcendent experiences made
sense. I knew I had to find some way to GO, to leave this sealed coffin
that is my body, to find an accelerator to project my brain, bypassing the
tedium of mechanistic evolution, into deepest omniversal space, into
immortality, and the very fabric of myth and heaven. I was everyone,
everything, and everything too was here to G.O. I understood my lifetime's
sense of disconnection / disorder was not a flaw, rather a wondrous gift
that described in a new way, the true nature of being that may be
experienced whilst trapped, mortal, and confused, here in this desert that
was at once a theatre of all possibilities, and an exit to all
Does MIND leave, or does Consciousness? What leaves, what stays behind as
we achieve immortality? BRAIN? If it is, as I suspect, the programmable
computer MIND that is the Key, what happens to Consciousness? Am I
mistaken, or will there be a Projection? I want to GO. This final puzzle
- Genesis P. Orridge, 1993