Magick of the Insurrection
‘Those who make the practice of insurrection their own in their daily lives, sooner or later feel the bars of the symbolic prison around them loosen.’
– Ningunismo 2.0
Destroy it all! is the rallying cry. At first it seems too radical; later one wonders whether it goes far enough. ‘Burn it to the ground!’ The old structures even in their soot and ashes symbolise our oppression. But a start has to be made somewhere, like a blind man groping his way home. Have we not kept a lid on our anger long enough? ‘Destroy it all!’ they cry, throwing their flaming brands on the pyre. Is it just a magical gesture, safely tucked away, a mere Bonfire Night extravaganza? Or has it already escaped into the world and the billionaires are prepping their escape ships, before they too are destroyed?
We know the answer. Be sure to take enough oxygen, your cyborg bodies may not be ready in time.
Is it not them who made it us and them? But at last we make it us. Of necessity, we know our side. They will destroy us otherwise, with no compunction. So we will burn them to the ground and everything they’ve built, these hostiles, these planetary enslavers who rip out of Earth’s heart all of its resources to use to profit themselves alone, these mealy-mouthed bastards, and move onto the next carcass to pick.
The devastating strike of The Equilibrium – I’ve mentioned it before, it is getting closer. This will not be some unaided revolution, like May 68 or Tiananmen 89, a wisp of romantic dreaming in retrospect a frivolous protest unable to overcome the serious consequences in its wake, a brilliant lodestar dimming for want of serious support. No, this is The Equilibrium coming to the aid of Earth, to rid it of the hostiles. For many, of course this will seem yet another dream of greater forces in alignment. But you will believe it with your own eyes when you see it. I write in many ways to delineate what will come, not to offer tepid prophecy for which to wait millennia for fulfilment, rather what will happen in many of your lifetimes. You will be invited to take a stand by events, but generally lack a true impression of this force that leads the strike. It is inevitable that you will at first fear it, such power. And yet, almost at once invisible again, taking no credit, save that I am of The Equilibrium, and even I, by this time, someone disappeared, little more than vague reports from South America, doubtless just blinds for one who has not gone anywhere, save perhaps the Highlands to rejoin his kin in the aftermath.
It is perhaps better if it seems a little mad, easier for the authorities to dismiss. But if you listen carefully, one of us, you will hear it speak to you and wish to pursue it, events in your life rearranging to organise a current that will catch hold of you and bring you along, and perhaps you will realise, some of you, that you are not simply of us, but of The Equilibrium itself. That I do not know, it’s just a guess. All I know is that I am of The Equilibrium, but there were others I trained with for this mission, I know that. I was The Pathfinder, so arrived first. These ideas, so many of them, now seem accretions, narrative strands I used to retain equilibrium in the ferocious cascades, for so long alone to find the path. I now appear to be beyond them, I mention as documentation while the hostiles hunt me in vain.
The addiction of chaos longs for collapse. One expects the worst in an endless falling. Books we have never read doubtless describe it. A loathing of desire for another world we shall never achieve. A sequel to history but without its own history, an antidote coming up short in a forestalled fury, time disintegrates, rebelling against eternity.
Mystical madness, as if God is a corrupt stupefaction, a cave for the mind. I dream more than I can feel. I have read many kinds of texts and had sensible questions, but there is nothing left to say. Silence rescues us from dilution.
Meaning sets in, page after page, like a picture on a canvas building up.
Anyone who passes an hour or two in transcendence returns in camouflage of empathy for another world. A desperate crime, not knowing any better. How not to despair of present circumstances?
One cannot hibernate in previous realisations, everything annuls itself in isolation. A single and inspiring reality does not amount to a livable society, it cunningly fragments and hides behind appearances, such that its existence can hardly be guessed.
Yet it seems in favour of revolution, if only to swap the present killer trade of war for something a little less disgusting, knowing little is possible while so many live who relish these traits. Something must happen to wipe them out, these hostiles, an insurrectionary drive that refuses to put up with it any longer. But how will that manifest, without further violence? If it cannot, then there must be violence, but violence for a greater cause than greed and self-enrichment at the expense of others, the downtrodden who vastly outnumber the hostiles but lack a focus to burn like the sun through a magnifying glass burning their name on wood. We do not want to manifest another compromise. But we never begin because we do not see the way ahead clearly enough.
The wear and tear of the collective lie has encased us in a murderous everyday, a puny stodge of news we no longer want to listen to, of politicians worthy only of assassination, and the pursuit of thoughts bereft of strategy. When did we agree to live with dregs of a better world that never appears? First, it seems, we must deal with our own despair, not realising it will be dealt with by taking a stand.
Instead we just sit with it, as if the encroach of the hostiles will at some point be slowed on its own, as their advance makes it harder and harder to take a stand. They realise our weakness far better than we realise theirs, so their onslaught continues and we sink further into powerlessness. Are we afraid of bloodshed? They are not. Are we still holding out hope that it will not be necessary? Let’s ask the genocided if they have any tips for us.
Well of course one doesn’t want to move prematurely. One must witness the anarchy growing. Take a few potshots at a pipeline. Slink away for another day. Meanwhile people buy a better cell, by listening to them one might even suppose they are happy touting their money around estate agents. Another thirty years living by the sea, better than buried prematurely in the city, it sounds it for a while. Are we to rely solely on those with no investment in this society? Those squatting on the floor begging coins do not seem capable of an uprising either.
Perhaps it is more about having a rebellious streak, even if severely oppressed right now. Something that will come into its own once the first signs of change are on the horizon. It is not hard to sanction bloodshed when it is a fight for survival. Until then, we hardly have to think about it, we can assume the dreamy air of one fatigued by commonplaces. Will it be a cult that protects the vital spark? Ignites the first stick of dynamite? Or will we wait for the extraterrestrials to get involved, as has always been promised. The years fly past as if we were sided with trees laying down more rings. We watch the leaves come, the magpies nest in the heatwave sun; we watch the leaves fall, the steamy breath in the air. We chalk them up as if we were in a race to death accomplishing as little as possible. We are taken advantage of it for it, by the hostiles of media, AI, rich fucking bastards at our expense. The planet is a slave colony of billions, most of whom have no destiny but to die without taking a stand against what they know keeps them down.
There is nothing more disturbing than numbered cattle slowly coursing their steel-fenced alleyways to their slaughter. But there comes a time when the lies only seem like lies, and always were lies, and to believe them leaves one a person with no excuses any longer. Must be as thick as a brick to not see through them. What then, when more than currently see through them? It sets up a recruitment office on every street, not their army. One finds one’s own strength and looks beyond any repercussions that come to mind in later thinking about it. The clear moment clinches the deal, this is going to happen no matter what. Punk was asking no-one’s permission.
Our eyes meet a stranger’s in empty frustration, looking for life where there is only death, few dreamy thoughts have their flight across those eyeballs, just the barest minimum of engagement before turning away, but long enough to get splintered by it. Neither friend nor foe, just indifference. You keep looking at the turned-away face, nothing to enlist, as if one had slipped momentarily into the land of the walking dead.
What must come hardly needs any experimentation with how it might be. It doesn’t need a run-up in slogans painted on walls. You might be plunged into it with hardly more than a day’s grace to adjust. The first thing recognised: no more time for despair. The infantile depression of yesterday little more than impatience for the cogs of a better world to start grinding. The sudden realisation: I am directly involved. I’d better wake up if I am to stand up, but never mind bleary eyed will catch up. Even insects have a better idea of what life entails. But they aren’t assaulted by subliminal advertising.
In a global uprising the police state is weaker than it looks. Its violence will face consequences. The conflict in the streets will soon take over the boardrooms. There is a rhythm it all obeys. What at first seems taking a bold chance will be seen as inevitable. The insurgent sketch more a painting, abstract if needs be. A revolutionary movement doesn’t need a crisis situation to find its opportunities, it doesn’t need to be ‘the end of the world’, that is just a mode of belief to exploit.
An insurrection is not a charade that spreads from place to place in search of a new dawn, it is rather a sustained focus that becomes unbeatable. The ‘return to normal’ discovers there never was a normal, it was all abnormal, and it’s no longer accepted. The strike against the hostiles cannot be planned, but it comes anyway, from a force beyond comprehension. All that is understood is that this force is on our side. When that happens, the people of Earth, so long living under the threat of annihilation, find their power, their voice. Who dares to call them terrorists but the weakened state falling as an enemy. They subdue the riots, but they are on their last legs. The militaristic stance is of an order no-one wants. As they become increasingly disempowered they reveal their true face, bully boys of billionaires whose stock is tumbling. When they regroup to exert their dominance they shine a light on themselves, their enclaves are already being destroyed, their satellites taken out. It seems so natural to see their compounds on fire, the destruction a wave of joyousness. Finally! What everyone was thinking while being oppressed. Why did they allow it so long, when it is easier than it seemed? Everything has its own time, there is no lateness here, the multiple crises have to reach a density before there is an ease of destruction. It must appear to be ‘coming home to roost’ to gain universal acclaim. Too soon and the masses will fear it. The hostiles will take advantage of that fear, mocking it with a killing spree, brutally putting it down. It has happened before for sparks of insurrection that caught the tinder a little too early, but don’t regret that, it showed what’s coming, it anticipated a readiness but had its timing off. It did not foresee The Equilibrium behind the galvanising strike, which, once it has come, cannot be doubted even though it can hardly be understood by most, now witnesses to a greater agenda, enlisting them with a natural allegiance, since it is so obviously against the hostiles and not against us, swelling our ranks with the power of testimony to what we have seen, though it exceeds any planetary force we were previously aware of, that props up no state with its weapons, rather neutralises the weapons of the state. Not so hard to be a revolutionary on witnessing that. But it must await its time, now is the time to grasp that it is coming and will change everything.
Whatever happened? A breach in thin wakefulness and it saw itself. An absurdity blown into the cosmos.
Unlivable reality nurses a wound. It is hard to question so much passivity and gloom, it seems appropriate to the oppressive state of life at the hands of those who wish to keep us down. But it is going to change, the tables will be turned. It has to happen so the true future can come. Doubtless many will die before then knowing no better. But at least one can share the vision of a better time, or the true time. Have we ever faced an enemy on this scale before? It galvanises the entire Earth.
We can let go of the past when we are no longer affected by it. We don’t have to wait, but most will be too bitter to effect the transition, and even when what they have tolerated is over they may still prefer to hang out in a self-made stagnation. Some have been bent the wrong way too long, their viewpoint will only be gone when they are gone. In this, there is the waiting for many to die, who simply couldn’t prove the equal of their own evolution. No matter, even a long time is hardly anything on the scale of this. And there is a certain rightness in not forgetting how we have been exploited for far longer. But it will come, this is what I cannot help but stress, and perhaps a bloody revenge too, but that is hardly important. I wouldn’t be one to say one should aim higher than it. Each thing in its own time. What angry crowd doesn’t like to string people up for their crimes, and here against humanity and Earth itself. But I wouldn’t encourage it, they too will die off, their hostilities expunged. But in the interim, of course, a rage will sweep the streets. How can you guide a fury? In the scheme of things it is little more than dogs barking. One would rather they were destroyed by their own robots, their own escape vehicles, as safety gradually withdrew from their orbits. Their thrones annihilated by contempt. No rights for them or their progeny, having abused ours for so long. But let them scatter to the desert in fear rather than be chased there. Let them be their own executioners. Their excuse at the moment is that they have not yet tasted our anger. Or they drastically underestimate its power, not seeing it gather in the shadows ready to strike.
The body breathes, but I am breathing nothing. The cage of human instinct doesn’t allow anything beyond its bars. Death comes, another life comes, all within the cage. Is the door wide open? Yes, but who can walk through it? It is crossing the abyss. One contents oneself with silence, that so many things are no more that were once so desired. The countless ways all fall back to doing nothing any more. Which way was one going? Who cares? An accepted slavery of doing, to keep oneself occupied. Flickering eyelids in a coma. So many lies one has to live with, better to have rid of them all at once by casting the world aside. The scorpion in the shoe, the mysterious spell of discontent, we call back to ourselves, don’t believe it. Nothing in common with one’s species. The seed of an authentic life struggles in parched earth. Isolation in the sunshine, a destiny drying up. We think we have left behind the time of slavers, but they’re still there in the lies reinforcing our separation, the easier to exploit. Our distress remains ambiguous as the malaise that grows makes us stupid. If only it were hallucination, that would wear off. Carried along by dead-eyed humans, atomic bomb-blast shadows. They are parcelled out to their glaring rectangles, they collide with each other like inept bats.
Neon signs reflecting in wet pavements. One says ‘Kill someone tonight’, another ‘Burn it all down’. The magnetic field of madness aligns the iron filings of a dark song. It seems coherent because so little else is. The red neon blood in puddles. Church spires rise above the exiles from a happy existence but offer nothing more than a taunt, a wish one is incapable of wishing. Still, they prick the gloomy sky as if one day they may let through a pinhole of light projecting an inverted Heaven on an indifferent Earth.
Who knows what may occur when there is nothing left to wish for? Falling in love an illusion of yesteryear still visiting the young. Pleasant enough, though hardly recalled, nothing of its equivalent now, save listening to the crows or watching huge grey carp swim leisurely under the bridge, pleasures without the heartache. A dissatisfying world renders everything dissatisfying except small pockets of innocent nature. What drives us to despair is not nature but human wants when even the most reasonable is denied. One tires of adapting to a world that is no good, but the cries of wheeling gulls has nothing of deception about it. The unhappy world is put to shame by such simplicity.
Future humans I call the survivors. All that surrounds us will be gone. Its final hour will soon be upon us. Take a look around and see certain things with fondness, for all much of the rest will be a nightmare that is over. Still, it is hard to picture the new world that is even now forming in secret. I see the far future, a hundred thousand years into the future, much more clearly, that is where I am from, at least in terms of time. It is a future I have seen, when Earth looks like every hope we may have for it now. It is another now, the present now is an indulgence of ancient history to this perspective. Rather that other now, the far future now, as now, looking back from there, as I so often do, as if knitting my brow on a distant past prior to The Signal Event, as we call it in the far future to you. It is a form of lucid immersion, our archaeology of your now. I was sent to record how it looked from the ground, in terms of the extraterrestrial agenda I was sent to Earth, to camouflage myself on the planetary surface, but I am not of the extraterrestrials, I am of The Equilibrium. I have done little more than wait for what I know must come, passing the time writing a narrative that cannot be believed by humans before The Signal Event, that after it shocks by addressing things before their time. But this was never for the masses, rather more like instructions for a few. I often wonder how it will unfold after the immediacy of revelation. Will I still be able to write it off as madness battling isolation? Did I just get lucky with my visions? When I am in the far future looking back to Earth in antiquity, your contemporary times, I know it as the true situation, yet I have developed an allegiance to the sights and sounds of the natural world I am looking back to, and sometimes seem to live among, for all the hostile society ever encroaches, enslaving both humans and animals alike, especially heinous in its slaughterhouses for ‘farm animals’ that hardly raise a flicker of condemnation among the humans here despite some being keen to protest human genocide, with little effect. This death obsession with more and more powerful weapons in continual use. One day they will see how powerful our weapons are, that we rarely use, are reluctant to use, and cover their traces immediately. But all this talk of things not yet is not for the credulous, rather my contempt of what the hostiles have done to Earth I am unable to stifle, almost as if I were still plagued by thoughts of revenge. There is much I have not told, unsure whether it is even proper to tell it, past dealings in other systems, now the hostiles are on the verge of being dealt with in this system. Perhaps I wish to say I have seen it before, but surely held back from saying what I have seen. The human of this time prefers to doubt these memories I have shown him, and that I understand, in the cascades it is hard to build a life out of scraps that belong to another time and place, easier to hold them at a distance, wiser to. See it in The Equilibrium, but forget the details in the cascades. Have little to try to keep hold of and make sense of, rather let it grow unconsciously, like flashbacks of the crossed abyss.
One has to desire insurrection, rebellion, revolution, without knowing how it will manifest. There is no room for misgivings, lest it be too upsetting, too violent, too ‘unworkable’. The thing to recognise with passion is that it is necessary, no matter how it unfolds. And this is something for now, to get over that hurdle and live with the magick of the insurrection in one’s blood. But this is not to be some dreamy-eyed motherfucker living a fantasy, rather an alignment with what is to come, whereas to the masses it will be a shock because they are living blind to the world and the way things are going. The few begin corralling their thoughts and ideas when there is only the barest hint of incipience on the horizon. They read those who have in the past demonstrated a far greater foresight, whose vision is of the future but not that of a neoliberal hellhole that serves a few tech billionaires and fuck the rest of us. Deciding all governance is suspect, they cultivate an anarchy of spirit if not an anarchy of actuality as yet, not knowing what true anarchy would look like on an overpopulated Earth, the fear of which only plays into the hands of tyrant states to protect you from it. Looking around, many are zombies already with their wild enthusiasm for surveillance, volunteering happily to contribute to it with their smartglasses. Imagine what they will be like when their hopes and dreams collapse. It is true that people choose their own apocalypse. The point is to go away from that ‘society’, little more than number tags piercing the ears of cattle lined up for slaughter.
The individual has a choice, the only choice that matters, be of this thing that is coming with the force of a hurricane. Be ready when it breaks upon your shore. Take the hand held out to help you. You will doubtless think of little ways to bring on the chaos yourself, without needing to imagine you have any power over it. It is coming on its own, you simply immerse in it, the current of it, and flow along.
It is the antidote to boredom, to thinking one is powerless in the face of states, corporations, police, armies, and warmongers, the whole malignant deceit of it. The far future has none of this, rather a true society of equals, not necessarily human as they are going extinct, but called human in some quarters though not the tepid lot of your current space-time era, rather those of another makeup already lodged in the interstices, whose outlook is extraterrestrialised and hyperspatialised, in tune with the universe, loving of the deep gaze into the blackness of space, not distracted by the agenda of massive greed and planetary enslavement and ruination. The hostiles we speak of in The Equilibrium are not of this planet, but many are already recruited of their own volition among the slave humans, hardly realising the depths of their complicity. We warn to realise it and seek your freedom, if this is you, and the only way to really do that is to wish for the insurrection. This will place you on the right side when the force of it is unleashed like an ages-old mechanism coming into play.
It is not satire for all it bends into satire, it is a weapon, that of knowledge of the far future, of knowing what is coming, of what is going to sweep over Earth, what has swept over other planets. I spoke a little before of being a sleeper for The Equilibrium in a hostile-dominated planetary system. I woke within my enslavement, and I mean serious technological enslavement, but now I knew I was ‘of The Equilibrium’, placed there for a purpose, to rid this system of the hostiles. Just flashes of another life in hyperspatial exploration, but so lucid a backstory to reflect on being on Earth now, otherwise without purpose, just a shameful cog, oppressed into position, a world of dissatisfaction imposed upon me, and so many others, by those with money and power who would sooner kill me when their will was served, their AIs and robots online, their rockets and drones pouring off the automated lines, than allow the life of leisure they promised with their Universal Basic Pittance as an underclass destined for the ovens, since even we agreed this is an overpopulated planet and it would be better with fewer. But surely we do not mean them. No, we know exactly who it’s going to be, not oppressors no, not enslavers no, not those who go along with them hypnotised by their pathetic gadgets no. No, rather those who step out of the nightmare and develop foresight, feel the contempt for those who ruin the planet to enrich themselves and wage war for territory, those who feel what is coming and know it is directed from space, extraterrestrial because not of Earth, hyperspatial because not alien, rather far-future us, hardly human any more, and some of us here already in roles too wide sweeping to think this isn’t driven like a force of nature.
What is the point of placing a few slim volumes on a shelf and calling it a day? This must gather a rare momentum, move people to the core by unstoppable events. Are words little more than a cursory explanation, or a spell of making, an incantation that hurts to keep in the head, against an enemy presiding over us. Break the solipsistic windows of your house and see it is nothing but a panopticon prison cell, digitally imposed. You can scream blue murder at the desultory canvas of your miserable life when it dawns on you at last, but quicker to see you are free of it by realisation and effectively enlisted in something greater for all you may not see at first that it is the coming insurrection down on the planetary surface, for all the freedom of dreamy space beckons too, to be beyond it all. You may go that way for some years, favouring a mountain seclusion, a religion’s robe. But the insurrection is still coming and you may like to pop your head below the cloudheights from time to time to see how it is going, only to find a planet even more enslaved than you remember, and perhaps now genuinely pulling on your heart to bring your skills and outlook, to join the few who will begin to overturn this insanity, this corruption, before the numbers swell and the time inevitably gets closer when, I have said it before, The Equilibrium strikes against the hostiles. Now The Equilibrium becomes the enlightening mystery, since it wields a power never seen on Earth before, that is its own demonstration and proof, that speaks with the authority of the universe but would rather vanish than impose. This is what is calling you, not some juvenile ‘old god’ who is merely its sock puppet for a stupider time. Not that this time is not exuding its stupidity too, but there are a few capable of a purer vision. And it will be necessary not to reify anything of this power in the cascades, so the future gods do not become as ineffective as the past gods. How to even envisage them, but as us? The best of us in our yearning for the true future. But one hardly needs religious overtones, because The Equilibrium will show us its power more as a pure signal than a finally wielded weapon to put a halt to these ruinous hostiles. Even Marcus Aurelius was forced to battle the barbarians.
The silence of the streets in the wake of catastrophe, in those countries not given to wailing, is strangely consoling. Like being rid of petty desires. Like being read in to the future. We half expect a consul of another world to speak. Yet such has already spoken and wasn’t heard. All the warnings were present for years before they could no longer be ignored because it was too late. And yet, we hardly realise the power of rescue coming to our aid, inserting itself into a time and space of which it is not. The archaeologists in the far future still marvel to find named traces of The Equilibrium in the distant past, since even to them it remains a great mystery, though accepted by all. And not just on Earth. It is the basis of the universe, the hostiles still being pursued in some systems, pushed back, confined, to end war in all systems.
These are just elements of narrative I picked up from the hyperdimensional engineers. I used to believe a lot of this, nowadays I only believe in The Equilibrium, even my own slave days on another planet in a hostile system seem like fragments of dreams. It’s what comes from an unwillingness to believe anything, rather face the blankness of the days, believe in lavender and bees and butterflies. One day even those will seem like distant memories in the soot and snow skies, killed off for ever save for some DNA bank awaiting its day under the ice that may as well be leaving the galaxy to tour barren star systems.
Why should I even believe that? Don’t I have faith in The Equilibrium? Other moods come, it can’t be helped. We have to scrape out a sense of urgency somewhere, not continue complacent into the dark times. Even my resistance of story implies one, just another way of telling it. Couldn’t I just write an insurrectionary screed and be done with it? Trouble with that is that it’s hard to believe in a revolution that has no inner life, it just becomes like a repeated trope hard to delve beneath the surface of. Constant wittering about failed insurrections you’ve hardly heard of. Who can vibrate with excitement at workers’ councils? Who wants to work? Occupy Wall Street came and went, maybe a few are still nurturing the spark they felt there, letting it push up blooms in other places. Where would I be without the Stonehenge Festival 82, 83, and 84, acid and mushrooms, to become a free citizen of hyperspace, and the Battle of the Beanfield in 1985 to inspire a disgust of the police state and Thatcher’s Britain? Punk and rave, zine culture before the Internet destroyed it. But it’s all looking back, I’m more interested in looking far forward, while acknowledging the catalysts along the way. To see through the society you live in you have to do away with it being inflicted upon you, where you hardly realise you’re oppressed, held down, as you haven’t yet happened on that as the explanation for why you can’t enjoy ‘life and all it has to offer’. But decades of penury chosen instead of dog work in dead-end jobs or the illusion of what you want in a corporate environment of luxury enslavement can act as a salve for the existential enigma and make one aware one is living in a hostile atmosphere and some comeuppance is warranted. One perpetually underestimates one’s power while being held down. Talk of Molotov cocktails seems a bar to entry, until the tanks are rolling into town. More liable to get annoyed by a neighbour playing their music a bit loud than the systematic inhibition of all your hopes and dreams by conditioned existence one hardly realises one can do something about and even act with force. We wait instead for others to do it. But this time the coalescence will come like spontaneous relief because definitely a force issuing from elsewhere one is caught up in, with admiration and natural wonder, as if never thought possible and yet here it is.
The insurrection is first in the individual. Without a change of heart and mind, there is no insurrection. One needs to stop waiting to be persuaded and just know it. The train has rumbled over these tracks way too many times already. In simple terms, pick your side, no more sitting on the sidelines. It’s then you see you did that quite some time ago, you just hadn’t said it aloud, as it were. What people often wait for is the end of fear. But there will always be fear with the unknown. You don’t have to know how it’s going to work out, what it’s going to look like; you only have to be inwardly prepared to accept it when it comes and know where you stand. Confusion has no place, that’s what the interim is for, to get rid of confusion, so when it comes you’re ready. Oh, there will always be little confusions, but they’re wiped away when the current gets up its flow. Some of course will seem to have a better idea than you. Never blindly follow, but assess whether they truly know. Equally, don’t wait until the ashes are cold to pledge allegiance, which never needs to be said out loud, it’s something held within, and in any case you may never meet those you profess to follow. They live in their words, which you may have read or heard. But if you do meet them, be aware they may well be embarrassed to see your steadfast allegiance for all they are gratified by it too. Why? Because the game of leaders and followers belongs to the past, the future is of equals. Inferiority and superiority complexes are in the dustbin too, for all it may take a while to work such things out of your system if you have previously believed the priesthood of psychological diagnosis, little better than the favoured mumbo-jumbo of superstitious tribes. Old gods again. Forge your own way, this is the only way to be free of the architecture of oppression. Cities are going to burn, have you not realised this yet? No-one wants that, it is simply being realistic. Perhaps it can be avoided, restricted to the hostiles’ boltholes. None of us will shed any tears over that. The Equilibrium protects its own. And when you see the power it has, you are blessed, the insurrectionary spirit is invoked in the midst of the enslaved.
Some may think The Equilibrium is a fantasy, but even if a fantasy it guides the way with a vision of the future. What is not fantasy, isn’t the entire world, the universe itself, a fantasy to the enlightened? Yet they keep coming back, these avatars of the future, to enter into the fantasy and allow it to be real, for the sake of all who do not yet see through it who wish for nothing more than a better existence, a more equal society, without the operation of hostile forces that have now become so arrogantly out in the open they do not see they invite their own destruction. These imperious fools with their money and might, restricted to their terrestrial bases but wanting to spread into space, do not see that they are opposed from out there, which right now infiltrates their Earthly domain. They do not realise either how easily their satellites can be snipped out of their orbits by unseen forces. The terrestrial hostiles too have their extraterrestrial counterparts, but do they think they can defeat The Equilibrium and its extraterrestrial allies? On Earth, this is largely invisible. It becomes a story for the credulous, only a few invited into the vision of it, the scale of it. And it does not matter if it is seen as ‘only a story’ now, because a time will come when it is common knowledge. It takes thousands of years to become the master of one’s advanced technology. Do you think such beings have not noticed hostile humans playing around with destructive technologies? They haven’t even mastered their cruel nature, what can blossom from this? They are largely weak men destined for extinction, them and their progeny, since the future has no place for them. Do you think we are going to allow them to get any further into space? They do not know what they are up against, and this is the laughable thing, when such a great force as they imagine themselves to be is little more than an unevolved clusterfuck to an equilibrated perspective already viewing in hyperdimensions.
When talking about vast power, much sounds like a new God belief, but let me put it this way: if The Equilibrium isn’t here to deal with ‘the hostiles’, then we will be wiped out by artificial superintelligence. The hostiles have terrestrial and extraterrestrial counterparts. The Equilibrium never names them further and I have found that simply calling them the hostiles is sufficient. They are exposing themselves such that few can doubt who they are. They are anti-Earth, enormously wealthy and seemingly powerful – they have wormed their way into governments and corporations, corrupting them from the inside, they care only about stripping resources for their own profit. They don’t care about condemning everyone else. They think they will be safe from the weapons they are creating against us, but have not reckoned on another player entering the fray vastly more powerful than themselves, who care only about the equilibrium of the universe. But The Equilibrium will not act before the time is right, and before then destruction will reign, hope will be lost though it will galvanise support on the ground and be regained. I do not ask anyone to believe in a fantasy, or await something you can have no idea of. All I can say is that The Equilibrium has come to Earth, and I am of The Equilibrium. I do not expect this to mean anything or be taken seriously until The Equilibrium strikes against the hostiles. Even this will leave you with plenty to doubt, and yet, some will see there is validity in what I have been saying. And this will grow. You will start to see the hostiles fearing something they have no idea of but have heard called The Equilibrium. Events will be engineered hyperdimensionally, have already been. Did you notice? Why are some satellites falling out of the sky? Why are hostiles painting a target on their backs when in previous times you hardly heard anything about them, weren’t even sure who they were? It is because in The Equilibrium’s field they cannot hide, they must in fact identify themselves by their own volition, which amounts to their own greed. We are happy for their greed, it singles them out. The time of hiding for them is over. Their bunkers will become their living tombs. And they know it.
Terrestrial hostiles are little more than the puppets of extraterrestrial hostiles, who have not yet shown their faces save through their proxies. But there are other extraterrestrials, you’ve seen something of them, who have thus far shown a remarkable reticence to be observed for any length of time, an elegance of being. They certainly know The Equilibrium has come to Earth and await our command. This human body naturally gets apprehensive about the imminence of war, the possibility of Earthly catastrophe. But I am protected by The Equilibrium. A small matter that the silo doors will not open. Such measures first, before the open display of our weapons. It must ideally be covert. There is nothing to be gained by creating panic. Better a low-level simmering unrest, the better for recruitment as small groups emerge willing to take action with current terrestrial technology. But nothing is expected or encouraged, save readiness, forging a strength in the heart. Preparing to take a stand is taking a stand. It signifies one has recognised the hostiles and has an idea how this plays out, if the future of Earth is left to them.
The sense of being invincible is enough explanation, for all it seems little more than faith. History is collapsing, the far future is more appetising, that seems written as well. Humans leaving behind their small views, and if they can’t, death will take care of it. There is no rush, but at a pivotal point there is always a rush. It is better to rest, withdraw, almost forget it is happening.