Friday, July 27, 2018

That Eternal Kingdom in the Secret Chambers of the Heart.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

If you have a Prickly Pear cactus assemblage in your backyard... (cause they have this Banyan Tree capacity.) you will know that you don't just pick them and eat them. They have spines; spines that can go through many gloves. Rather than find the right glove; Visible likes to do it the hard way- saves time. Really? Yes and No but Visible isn't into time that much, since he tends to operate in more than four dimensions.

I get a quart sized can and attach it to a broomstick and knock them into it, then I drop them into a bucket of water. The next day they come out smooth as a baby baboons ass and all of the spine needles are at the bottom of the bucket; peel and eat or process for a pie. Not bad for something that grows all over the place where it grows. Why am I telling you this? Beware of tasty treats and attractive things.

As a matter of fact, beware of anything that doesn't name itself and define itself instantaneously as itself. Mr Apocalypse is ♫here, there and everywhere♫ Trump is rightly afraid that Israel is looking to take him down the same way they did Kennedy. What? Why Israel? Because it always is, no matter what banner it may be announced as coming down behind. They are the Prickly Pear of the manifest plane. As their motto states;

“First use force and if force doesn't work, use more force.” Or “By deception thou shalt do war.”

Well, Mr. Apocalypse has them in the cross hairs and exhales slowly as the finger eases down upon the trigger. He's handing out that Rachel Corrie moment, come round at last.

Somewhere out there is $3,500,000 with my name on it- for reasons yet to be specified but good reasons indeed. Not wanting material things but everywhere is money wasted on trivial things; not in this case. It doesn't have to be my name, simply someone's name with my name in reserve for anyone holding a creatively visualized image that can easily be transmitted to the one for whom it is relevant and ready to be emailed as the case may be.

Henry, like so few of us, maintaining the ongoing day to day sideswiping reach around Armageddon reserved for those who think that is what is on the menu, where hope has been replaced by despair. In every case, it is the difference between the ineffable being real and there being no ineffable, as if that were possible, when everything we do and do not believe in, is held in place by the ineffable that we do or do not believe in. It is uncanny to me how anyone can not believe in what believes in them and always has.

It is that unshakable conundrum. The sun is there in the sky, which has projected the world we stand on and from whose light we are held in continuance and which is held in place by the spiritual sun, which never reaches mid heaven but is always approaching it. Meanwhile endless arguments of 'is and is not' go on and on; on the one hand a perpetual certitude and on the other hand, angels dancing on the head of a pin... wasted time in an orchard of dead trees, juxtaposed by trees laden with fruit that wait in the hands of the eternally faithful. It is a simple thing that is reduced to shadows replicating shadows, where the arguments intensify and become ever more complex and less real, by comparison with something that has no argument whatsoever and possesses no words. It is the perfection of the inarguable; the garden of beginning and enduring, with no need for this agonizing departure in time, which goes on and on and on and... is a prison, a confinement of one painful dream after another, that hangs there, imaginary but... somehow we found a way with the help of the Father of Lies until... thanks to Mr. Apocalypse it gets uncovered as nothing at all.

By faith; “For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:” and by faith is it made real- the light of the ineffable makes precipitation from the idea through the blueprint, through the process of manufacture, into physical certainty or into nothing from nothing into nothing. It simply is or it is not. On the one hand whatever comes into being and on the other hand whatever does not come into being and every day it is the result of the ineffable moving through you or the Father of Lies moving through you.

I have seen both, have and have not come about and my preference is noted by what has and has not been stated here in these millions of words to that effect. Once there was the inception of it all and where there was no response. Then there were the few, who through accident or destiny, came and saw something that was resident in them and then there was ten and then a hundred and then a thousand and then thousands and thousand through millions of visits, returning and returning to verify, what was always waiting to verify and be verified and how did it all happen? That is as important as the fact that it did happen and it happened because it was there in the first place; just as the world in the idea of itself came into being. It was all a dream. It is a dream and somewhere along the line we woke up and the real made cracks in the dream. The light came and Love shined in the hearts of the dreamers, or Love did not come but continues to wait upon the moment of its arrival... “tap... tap... tap... goes Mr. Apocalypse's walking stick.

The dreamer tosses and turns in restless slumber. Mr Apocalypse is determined and persistent and will not be be denied;

“There is a Road, steep and thorny, beset with perils of every kind, but yet a Road. And it leads to the very heart of the universe.

I can tell you how to find those who will show you the secret gateway that opens inwardly only, and closes fast behind the neophyte forevermore.

There is no danger that dauntless courage cannot conquer.
There is no trial that spotless purity cannot pass through.
There is no difficulty that strong intellect cannot surmount.

For those who win onward, there is reward past all telling: the power to bless and to save humanity. For those who fail, there are other lives in which success may come.”

You will hear that The Theosophical Society was a Satanic construct. You will hear that everything is a Satanic construct and it is true to the degree that you are a Satanic construct and that verifies it as such or refutes it as such. Anything manifest has some measure of darkness, as do you but... everything has some measure of light as do you. You are as true as you are. “I think, therefore I am.”

“Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.”

So... simultaneously it is true or it is a lie, depending on who it is that we rely on to authenticate or invalidate what we do or do not believe to be real. My preference is that the Lord Jesus Christ makes my life what it is and not a pipe dream, whose nothing confines me behind the bars of this crowded prison that I do not reside in but which echos this:

“There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth, when ye shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets, in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrust out.”

There is an eternal kingdom in the secret chambers of the heart, where alternatively demons spill our wine and where we have been cast out from the realm where we once ruled as kings and queens but where we are now sentenced to wander in the thirsty deserts of unrequited desire; longing and longing after the Fata Morgana that draws the imaginary images, for fruitless pursuit of the temporary will o the wisps. The offspring of swamp gas comes and goes out of nothing into nothing and it does not have to be so ...but someone, somewhere, made a decision that this was preferable to the vibrating archetypes of eternal life that reinvents themselves for the perpetuation of each age, until it reforms into whatever is needed for the maintenance of each age, following the age that replaces the age, within each 26,000 year cycle round the clock, forever and ever amen.

I hope to see you at whatever point the power of the light has melted the dream web and timelessness ensues.

Then we no longer have this...

We have this...

...because ♫ it must be Love ♫ or Fear. One sends us on our way, or one keeps us here.

End Transmission.......