This story begins with the post "Hello" and that first post is archived in March of 2010.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

The Amnesia Chambers - #14 in the series

One by one the nonconformists were forced into “the chambers” to receive their amnesia causing blast of force.  From there they were routed to “the chairs” where they received their implants of new programming. When the entire group had been processed they were loaded onto a disseminator vessel and shipped to the prison planet where they were scattered into the atmosphere.  Once they were in the atmosphere of the planet an implanted program kicked in that compelled each life unit to immediately move to the surface of the planet and assume a life form to animate as their new physical identity.

This prison system is referred to as “the prison without bars.”   The prisoners fully believe that they are free.  And because they believe they are free they are never in a position where they feel obligated to escape.  For all practical purposes they become their own jailers and even executioners.

Note: At this point Bob’s story gets tediously detailed and extended (more so than at any previous point). In fact, it could easily turn into a several hundred-page technical novel. Writing Bob’s novel is not my mission, therefore, I am going to do a major abridge of this material. The truth is Bob’s story, to some degree, is your story. At some point in time you may get your memory back or you may never get your memory back but, in any case, the heavily detailed and unabridged version of Bob’s story can wait. It is my hope, though; that eventually you will be able to fill the details of this story in for yourself and from your own point of view from where you were and what you were doing when this mess occurred. And if that process of memory recovery does not engage on this journey I postulate that it will soon begin for you.

Okay. Let’s take a brief look at the reprogramming that occurs after the amnesia blast. There are thousands of program writers utilized in this mass reprogramming effort. Many of these writers are captive artists of the state and they have, over time, become incredibly adept and creative along state approved lines.  Therefore, the programs that are being written, besides being detailed to the point of absurdity, are extremely creative in a very degraded sort of way. Hey, what did you expect?  Outside of the Bureau of Taxation, this is the work of the most psychotically perverted department in the whole confederacy. I’m going to just highlight some of the common fundamentals that are a part of every program.

Note: In order for the life units to be effectively programmed the programming had to be administered with pain, drugs and hypnosis (PDH) and, in this case, because they’re dealing with a disembodied life unit, the pain, drugs and hypnosis were all administered in an electronic form, that is; as wavelengths of energy in specific patterns.

The primary building block to any of these programs is conflict.  Conflict with self, conflict between genders, conflict with others, conflict with authority, conflict with organisms, conflict with the environment, conflict with spirituality, conflict with god – these are primary divisions of the basic building block of conflict in these programs.  This would include a variety of commands that oppose one another such as, must have – can’t have, must go – can’t go, must trust – can’t trust, must believe – can’t believe, must love – can’t love, must kill – can’t kill and so on and so forth. The installation of these opposing compulsions sticks the life unit in a perpetual chaotic mental turbulence wherein there is continuing doubt, need to restrain, failure in restraining, guilt and self-condemnation. The next fundamental, in order of importance, is mystery.  In other words, this part of the program generates obsessive questioning as to who and what one is, what is their purpose in life, who are they and so on and so forth, but of course, never allows the question to be actually answered.  However, the programmers have created some very ingenious “answers” to be activated whenever these questions are posed. Next on the list is a programmed prejudice toward anything perceived as different from oneself or one’s group coupled with a burning necessity to convert, by whatever means necessary, that observed difference into “my view of ‘truth’ or my group's view of 'truth'."  Followed up by the program, if I can’t convert you I’ll enslave you and if you aren’t a compliant slave I’ll torture you to death. And, of course, I had better not forget to mention the betrayal program that activates right after the confidence and trust programs have been thoroughly engaged.  So any program written for implantation is going to have at least myriad versions of all of these elements and many more.

As you might guess, the programs can’t help but be reflective of many of the very circumstances of life as currently being lived in the Confederation. Not to mention the programmer’s own sick oddities and peculiarities being mirrored in their writings.  Because of this, certain areas such as politics, religion, family and sex, bodies, languages, money and basic survival issues are areas that have been heavily concentrated on by the programmers.  Of course, conflict, mystery, prejudice and betrayal have all been meticulously and sadistically woven into the fabric of these programs.

One practice that is a favorite among the programmers is to implant a subject with an obsessive compulsion to obtain a specific goal and then rig it (booby-trap it) so that it’s impossible for the goal to ever be obtained.  Just when the person has their goal right in their hands something happens to ruin it all.  So the person goes through a lifetime intently striving to attain a particular goal that they’re extremely passionate about and means everything to them, but never being able to realize it.  It’s always just out of reach.  And if the program does allow them to realize it, the instant they have it something will occur to cause them to lose it.

Freedom Fighters Captured - #13 in the series

The Department of Conformity, in liaison with other special police units of the Confederation, worked in tandem to make this a successful mission. The Dept.’s forces went out and set up traps to aid in the capture of the nonconformists. Many of these traps were baited with aesthetics. Life units are highly attracted to aesthetics. One of the reasons is that the wavelength of aesthetics, which, by the way, is a straight line, approximates the no wavelength actuality of the life unit. Remember, any wavelength the life unit is going around emanating is only mocked-up and is an illusion. Anyway, the traps are baited and the traps along with the other enacted plans eventually result in all nonconforming life units being located and captured.

Note: the capture of the nonconformists did not come easy or quick for the Dept. of Conformity. It was a mission that took a very long time to complete. Bob’s story as it has been given to me has much data about the Dept. carrying out this capture process of the nonconformists. I must confess that as the material was incredibly tedious I didn’t even make the attempt to move my awareness into it.
So who are these horrible nonconformists? Well, the life units that comprise this group may surprise you. Of course, it contains the worst of the worst in regards to the known criminals and villains of the Confederation. These particular life units were mentally fixated in past incidents when they were attempting to not be overwhelmed by their enemy. Therefore, being stuck in a moment of severe life or death conflict in the past (in other words, never being in the present time), they were compelled to be in constant battle against anything and everything in the present that to them was still perceived to be the past. In simple words, these life units were insane and they sure weren't helping to better anything. But other nonconformists captured also included the best of the best of artists, managers, executives, engineers, architects, scientists and geniuses (to name a few). And, last but certainly not least, the freedom fighters are in this notorious group. But it is, by far, the artists who are considered to be the worst of all the nonconformists and even more dangerous than the most insane criminals.

This collection of life units never conformed. They would not let themselves become robotic pawns of the Confederation’s rule. Except for the criminals, the life units in this group were very aware of the degenerating and degradation downward spiral that the Confederation was on. They worked relentlessly to enlighten others to this condition in hopes of turning the downward plunge of life around. They championed many a rebellion and did manage to somewhat inhibit the progress and growth of the Confederation. But they were constantly hounded and persecuted by the powers that be. And the Dept. made sure that the societies of the Confederation at large perceived these hardened nonconformists to be the scourge of the universe and public enemy number one. Also, as far as life units go in regards to orders of magnitude, between the criminals and nonconformists there was nothing less than a grizzly bear with more than a few elephants and even a few blue whales. So, as easily observed by the effects they created, these were certainly some formidable and rather large and powerful life units.
This group of criminals and nonconformists, though, were not nearly the complete roster of those destined for the prison planet. The criminals made up only about two percent of the prisoners and the nonconformists made up only eighteen percent. So who made up the remaining eighty percent?
The Dept. of Conformity had been at odds with the nonconformists for eons. And all this time neither one had been able to get the upper hand and keep it for any length of time. The nonconformists were fighting the Dept. in any way they could whether it be overtly or covertly. The nonconformists were extremely antipathetic to the Dept.’s horrendously brutal techniques of behavior modification and worked tirelessly to end it. Ironically, though, it was the existence and the persistent attacks of the nonconformists that served as the continual motivation for the Dept. The dept kept its best behavior modification scientists working around the clock to come up with a way to once and for all stop the nonconformists. This constant research by this highly specialized unit resulted in many new breakthroughs in the field of behavior modification technologies that went into broad use on the population at large throughout the Confederation. And these technologies may very well never have come into existence had it not been for the never ending resistance of nonconformists.

When the nonconformists were finally brought down, there was suddenly a huge void in the Dept. of Conformity. The game was over. They had won. Their nemesis for what had seemed like an eternity was no more. After all the celebrating and hoopla regarding the capture and exile of the nonconformists was concluded, the entire Dept. of Conformity slipped into a severe state of depression. The solution to this dire state of affairs came in the form of coming up with a new nemesis. Of course, there was no comparable adversary to the nonconformists but desperate times call for desperate measures. So the dept began to randomly round up, from around the Confederation, any citizen that had been reported as being "chronic" at not being competent at their job or on their post. For example: The Confederation had an unbelievably suppressive and complicated labyrinth of tax systems. The Bureau of Taxation was a sadistic political entity that sucked the very life-blood from the citizens, especially the working class citizens, of the Confederation. Anyway, the Bureau was insane on details and occasionally some low-level admin personnel would neglect to cross a “t” or dot and “i” (literally) and that would be that. It would be off to behavior modification with him or her. And if this type of offense occurred more than twice it was off to the amnesia chamber and then onto the prison planet. So eighty percent of the prison planet’s prisoner population was made up of similar idiotic cases to this one. And who knows, maybe somewhere in that group there might have actually been a life unit or two that was at least sentimental to the nonconformists’ cause. Now as far as the order of magnitude of the life units that made up this eighty percent, it was predominately somewhere in between wolves and field mice.

When the Dept. made its announcement to the entire Confederation about the successful capture of the nonconformists and that they were going to be exiled to a far off prison, there was rejoicing and celebration to excess among the vast number of populations from one side of the Confederation to the other.  The evil nonconformists were no more!

Saturday, April 24, 2010

The Prison Planet - #12 in the series

For the record: Life units are not energy and they have no actual wavelength (energy pattern) themselves, in fact, a life unit is the source of energy.  However, a life unit can mock-up and emanate a wavelength.  And, for whatever reason, life units have come to believe that they have to emanate a signature wavelength as part of an identity.  This consideration and practice actually came about long, long before the Confederation was even a concept.  But the fact that each life unit does emanate a signature wavelength works very well for the Confederation.  Like an organism’s unique set of DNA, It makes it extremely easy for the Confederation to keep tabs on the individual life units.

Way out on the outer rim of a small little galaxy there is an insignificant little planet.  It is many, many, many light years from any other confederacy populations or outposts.  This planet is in a location that is definitely way off the beaten path. And in order to get there from anywhere, expansive lengths of uninhabited deep quite space have to be crossed.  It is a part of space that nobody cares about because there’s nothing there of any value to care about.  The Dept. of Conformity needed such a planet to make its new plan workable.  They had conducted a covert search through the records of surveyors who are responsible for generating and continually updating maps of Confederation space.  This planet was one of the hundreds that came up on the search as a potential planet to fit their needs.

Apparently somewhere around thirty or forty million years ago (sorry, Bob’s data is difficult to decipher here) a genetic research branch of what is now the largest organism manufacturer in the Confederation had secretly come into this area of space and established laboratories on the planet as well as a network of other such laboratories on the planets in this remote solar system.   These labs were active for tens of thousands of years.  Many genetic breakthroughs came out of the work originating from these particular labs that were later incorporated in the overall technology pertaining to the wholesale manufacturing and sell of living organisms.  Anyway, the large quantity of the researchers’ sub-products and products from their years and years of genetic experimentation on the planet were left behind so this planet was practically spilling over with an enormous diversity and population of lower life forms that were not necessarily designed to be in the same vicinity with one another.  This population included many varieties of human-like organisms as well as organisms resembling many other popular types of body forms operated by life units throughout the Confederation; for example – forms of whales, dolphins, felines, elephants, birds and an extensive variety of reptilian and insect forms. And by the way, all the lower life forms on the planet were operating totally independently of any life units and that’s exactly how they would have preferred to keep it. Life units tend to overwhelm, suppress and exert influences over lower life forms that are far from being welcome by the lower life force that is the proprietor of all lower life in the physical universe. In any case, this planet was eventually chosen as the best location for what would soon become the new prison for the despicable nonconformists.
Note: I want to attempt here to give you a perspective of where this newly chosen prison planet is in relationship to the inhabited space of the Confederation. All right, you will have to mock this up. If you will, assume a point of view where the actual location in space that you occupy as you read this is the center point of the Confederation. Now from where you are get the idea that everything within a thousand mile radius from you is Confederation controlled space. And within that space every single life form from insect to human represents an independent galaxy. Each galaxy, of course, has its own aggregation of various types and sizes of stars and solar systems. And, for additional perspective, consider that a human body is composed of one quadrillion (that’s 17 zeros) cells - these cells represent the enormous quantity of celestial bodies within just one galaxy as represented by a human body in this mock-up. How many human bodies do you suppose there are within your thousand mile radius?

Now way out at the edge of Confederation space is a small galaxy (the size of a tiny sugar ant) wherein there is a miniscule little solar system and this is the solar system we’re interested in. If you were to mockup planet earth as representing the entire scope of Confederation space and then you were to go out and pick up the smallest granule of sand that you could possibly find and in that granule locate a single molecule, and in that molecule you locate the atom, and in that atom you spot the electron orbiting the nucleus of the atom…there! That electron represents a complete solar system and within that solar system is the planet that has just been designated to be the prison planet for the nonconforming scourge of the universe. Need I say more? This tiny seemingly insignificant little planet is a long, long, long, very long way from inhabited Confederation space.

As a side note: All the space and various galaxy, star and solar systems outside of Confederation controlled space is where the Confederation is constantly expanding its control and assimilating countless civilizations as it does. But, what the Confederation is completely unaware of is that, just a few thousand billion light years away, there are thousands of other so-called confederations extant out in that space that would make this Confederation look like a molehill next to Mount Everest.

The Dept. of Conformity had a pretty good idea where most of the nonconformists were located. They were known for having a propensity for staying near each other and this behavior made it a lot easier for the Dept. The Dept.’s mission was to round-up all the nonconformists, blast each nonconforming life unit with a quantity of force sufficient enough to cause amnesia, implant each life unit with a variety of new behavioral programs and then ship them all off in a disseminator cargo ship to be dumped out into the atmosphere of the prison planet.

Thursday, April 22, 2010


So what was this persisting problem that was aggravating the hell out of the Confederation's Dept. of Conformity?  The answer my friend, is two words – eternal life.  In other words, try as they may, they had never been able to successfully terminate a life unit.
Operating within the Confederation was a small subversive group that, despite the Dept.’s best efforts and the application of their most effective technologies of punishment and behavior modification, would not stay compliant. These hard-core nonconformists would not stabilize in the perfect mold of conformity mandated by the Confederation.  This miniscule fraction of life units was a festering thorn in the side of the department.  It was keeping the department from having a perfect statistic of compliance from all life units in the Confederation. The Dept. hated the nonconformists.  They were desperate to be able to round-up all these nonconformists and forever eradicate them from existence. And they continually had the best of their best working on the problem that would not go away.  Then, one day, they got a lucky break.  They got a surprise answer to their problem.
On a relatively small planet within one of the new member galaxies, an accident of considerable magnitude occurred.  The accident was of such enormity that within seconds from its beginning the entire planet lost its atmosphere and all lower life forms were completely eradicated.  Of course though, the life units, being both eternal and indestructible, were all in tact but as they were being collected a very odd phenomenon was observed.  This oddity was immediately recognized as something very important and was urgently reported to the Dept. of Conformity.  The communication was then routed to the Dept.’s special unit in charge of researching new ways to deal with nonconformists.

The affected planet, at its most recent census prior to annexation into the Confederation, had a population of twenty-five billion life units give or take a hundred thousand or so.  As each life unit was retrieved, accounted for then examined, one for one, they all manifested the same phenomenon.  Every single life unit from the disrupted planet was in a state of complete amnesia.  They did not know where they were, what they were or who they were.
The Dept. of Conformity immediately transported all the life units they had scooped up to an isolated planet that was used by the special section on nonconformists as an experimental lab.
Okay.  So they couldn’t kill a life unit but now, by way of this fortunate accident, they had discovered a particular condition that a life unit could become the effect of.  This was a condition that, in all recorded history, had never been seen or even thought possible in regards to an indestructible life unit.  Through their myriad experiments on the population of the destroyed planet, as well as a multitude of other experimental subjects abducted from a diversity of populations within the confederacy, they discovered that by subjecting a life unit to a sudden blast of an unthinkable degree of force, they could bring about a long-term state of complete amnesia. A state of amnesia so severe that it was impossible for the life unit to ever recover from - even after having thousands of birth, growth, death cycles within assigned body forms. The Dept. of Conformity was elated by these findings!
This milestone discovery was made early on in their research into these phenomena. What followed is a span of hundreds of years of sadistic brutality carried out in the name of scientific research and referred to as being vital experiments.  The hundreds of thousands of experiments and the tremendous degree of brutality incorporated by these sadistic bastards cannot be conceived of by any life unit that still has even the smallest fragment of sanity.  One just cannot confront the magnitude of evil displayed here. Any such brutality that we might have experienced or read about or heard about would pale in comparison to what occurred here.
With the research completed and having perfected the technology of how to overwhelm a life unit into a state of complete amnesia, a new strategy began to emerge from the Dept. of Conformity.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Life Units - #10 in the series

 Note: Regarding this particular part of Bob’s story I had better clarify something before we go any further. Amongst the seemingly infinite number of civilizations and populations that make up the Confederation it is commonly known, recognized and understood that a life unit (in our terms – spiritual being or what is commonly referred to as ‘the soul’) is an eternal entity that is aware of being aware and is potentially capable of maintaining a knowing, fully conscious existence and operating independently of any kind of physical form. However, that being said, the Confederation has, from its inception, mandated that every life unit must associate with and animate a body form and must do so from a location inside the form. Also, with the exception of specific highly classified positions (usually military) or working at extremely hazardous jobs, the body forms must be living organisms that are subservient to the life units. Why? Well, a life unit that is wired (for lack of a better phrase) into a living organism form is much easier to control and keep track of. The organism becomes the recognizable identity of the life unit. Once a life unit has been “wired in” if it so much as flitters outside of the organism the alarms go off. Knowingly or unknowingly moving outside your organism is an offense of magnitude and is not taken lightly by the Dept. of Conformity. If one’s organism (body) is injured it can be easily repaired. In fact, an entire body can be remade and assembled a piece at a time to look and act just like the original without being the original. When a body is destroyed, as is a frequent occurrence in the Confederation, the life unit is immediately located and taken to one of the abundant reassignment facilities. The life unit waits in one of these facilities to be assigned and wired into a new body form. By the way, all the bodies are factory made with new designs and features coming out constantly. Of course, the body form, type and model assigned to a life unit are in strict accordance with and appropriate to the particular region where the life unit will be functioning. In other words, it might be an amphibian form, a beetle form, a human form or one of trillions of other lower life forms (all organisms are considered to be lower life forms) used by life units throughout the empire of the Confederation.

As a little side note regarding life units; life units are not equal in dimension or quantity. Each life unit is of the exact same make-up (essence) but from one life unit to another, there is not an equal endowment of that essence. In other words we’re talking about a quantitative factor here i.e., order of magnitude. To get a visual on this discrepancy of size in life units I’m going to use familiar animals as representations (now this comparison to animals is to overall “life essence” size only – not brain size or disposition). So we have life units that would be blue whales (the largest animal on earth) all the way down to being a tiny little mouse. Again, the essence of life is the exact same from life unit to life unit but the order of magnitude of that essence can vary greatly. The Confederation has only a spattering of blue whales within its entire population. The predominate life unit in the Confederation would be along the line of being somewhere between a polar bear and a squirrel.

The Confederation contains myriad hierarchies of distinctions enforced upon its populations. Some of these distinctions are in social class, species, race, economics, and region then there are numerous subdivisions in any class. Those individuals belonging to specific higher classes at least have some choices when it comes time to get a new body form. The lists of choices are quite limited but for example; one choice might regard the gender of the new body. The lower classes, which make up over eighty percent of the Confederation’s populations, have no choice when it comes to being assigned a new body. The bodies manufactured for the lowest classes are without gender and have no reproductive capabilities but some do have sexual capabilities. The fact is that there are no bodies manufactured that have reproductive capabilities. Long, long ago the state saw that it was much to their advantage to take over all reproduction activities and management of living organisms. The state contracts through private genetic corporations that own and operate the body farms to keep the Confederation in ample stock of any required or desired lower life form.

I almost neglected mentioning that an important element in the manufacturing of bodies was the documentation of the ongoing genetic relationships between body units. These relationships by way of genetic lines were known as family connections. The life units maintaining a pretense that these bodies were members of a continuing genetically connected family unit were, for some reason, critical to the Confederation. Therefore, life units animating lower life organisms (bodies) pretended to be part of a family system that included the immediate family of parent(s) and siblings then an extended family of aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents and so on. The Confederation felt that maintaining the pretense of these family units was a helpful tracking and control factor. The ongoing genetic relationship between bodies manufactured at different times is a reality but, as bodies are not inherent to a life unit, the illusion of being a body that’s part of a family unit and an extended family unit by a life unit was long ago originated by the Confederation. Many life units within the populations of the Confederation were so ingrained with this pretense of being a body and part of a genetic line of bodies that they viewed the illusion as a truth and viewed the idea of there being independent life units as a lie. And they created all manner of social, cultural and religious systems and structures to support and validate their unique views. The Confederation, of course, just loved this as it made it just that much easier to keep control over its populations. But also know that when a life unit’s organism died and the life unit was reassigned to a new organism, that new organism was not necessarily of the same genetic line as the previous organism animated by the life unit.

Welcome to the Confederation - #9 in the series

Bob is sitting at a control panel.  He has numerous screens in front of him where he’s monitoring the course and progress of almost two thousand various makes and models of intergalactic cargo vessels.  He alone is piloting all of these cargo ships remotely from his control panel, which is integrated into his “living” and telepathic hover chair.  Presently, he is busy adjusting the course of one of the ships that is in route to a very remote and isolated planet way out on the far rim of one of the smaller galaxies belonging to this confederation. 

The particular ship, well on its way to this planet, is a midsize ship being not more than one hundred miles in length, seventy-five miles high and fifty miles wide.  And those figures, by the way, are calibrated to within a thousandth of an inch.  This vessel is a disseminator type that is at least ten thousand years old. But even at that age, it remains to be a dependable ship and has many more years of use left in it.  It’s called a disseminator because once it arrives at its destination it thoroughly broadcasts its cargo over the programmed target.  In this case, the programmed target for this disseminator’s cargo is the entire planet that it is heading for across an immense quantity of deep space. A trip that even in hyper-space drive requires three years for the journey.

Like Bob’s post, the cargo that fills the hold of this ship is top-secret material and must be delivered to this planet no fail once every thousand years.  This point is emphatically expressed in the contract between the corporation Bob is employed with and the Confederation’s Department of Conformity.  Another specification among the myriad in the contract relating to this particular planet and cargo is that all deliveries must be remotely piloted and cloaked.  If this delivery was in any way inhibited there could, and most probably would, be disastrous consequences. 

Bob’s thoughts and attention wander away from the job he’s doing.  He begins thinking about the history of this obscure little planet and why these once every thousand years deliveries are so important to so many.


The Confederacy has been in existence for several trillions of years.  It does have a name but that will not be revealed for just in hearing the name there could be dire consequences. Over sixty million galaxies of all types and sizes comprise the Confederation and with the continual welcome and often times intensely battled annexations of former independent star systems, new membership is ever growing. 

Almost from its inception the Confederation has had to deal with a persistent problem.  But we’ll get to that a little later.
The creation of the Confederation was the creation of a new organizing and ruling governmental entity that was composed of trillions of trillions of separate independent governments. The Confederation at its inception was really “something.”  But the Confederation, from the moment of its inception, was, as a group entity, not aware that it had entered onto a dwindling spiral.  With this occurrence the “something” instantly began to actively devolve toward becoming a “nothing”.

In the beginning the Confederation could have been and was called divine and was not perceived as being anything but divine for hundreds of billions of years.  But the perception was false.  And eventually the endurance of this false perception became part of a plan to obscure the ongoing and escalating degeneration of the Confederation.  This plan was the bright idea of a collection of gargantuan intergalactic corporations that had things going their way and, even if it meant the continued degeneration and degradation of the whole Confederation, it was of no concern to them.  In their view, they could easily insulate and protect themselves from any ill effects that may be the consequences of their actions.  After all, they had complete control of all the wealth and personnel within the entire Confederation. They ruled the game.  They called all the shots and they felt they were invulnerable. 

In the last several hundred million years as the Confederation has continued down the dwindling spiral it has become, generally speaking, increasingly more brutal and sadistic.  It rules with ultra heavy force and punishment.  It is very, very serious about, and incredibly obsessive and compulsive, in its relationship to order. 

A little less than one hundred million years ago there was a catastrophic event that took place within the Confederation. And if there are points in the dwindling spiral where the spiral just straightens out and becomes a vertical fall, this event certainly was one such point.  After this event, the Confederation, which was already well on its way down the spiral, immediately fell into an abyss of insanity.  A point that is only recognized fully if one is outside looking in. To those within the sphere of influence of the confederacy their actual condition is perceived as being anything but insane.

The Confederation demands and gets precise compliance and execution of even the most petty of tasks.  There are rules and policies to govern every single action involved in every miniscule thing throughout the entire confederacy.  The prime directive of the Confederation is, “ALL MUST CONFORM. ALL MUST COMPLY.”  The, “or else” is only implied but it is implied most severely and with very little or no instigation.  In other words, the Confederation has perfected the art of punishment-based persuasion in bringing about compliance.  And the pettiest of offenses can set the compliance machine gleefully whirling into motion.

The Confederation’s Department of Conformity, especially with consideration to the immense scope and diversity of civilizations, staggering numbers of populations scattered hundreds of thousands of light years in every direction within the boundaries of the Confederation and the hundreds of trillions of trillions of individual life units involved, has done a pretty darn good job of seeing to it that almost every single life unit is in compliance with every applicable rule.  And if they aren’t, well, as mentioned earlier, they have in their possession very effective methods of behavior modification.  However, and as also mentioned earlier, they have a persistent problem that has been tormenting them to no end.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

The R-factor - #8 in the series

Right now we are moving through another looking glass. We are slipping through unnoticed as we ride, so to speak, on Bob’s coattails. Before we step out onto the other side, I want to pause briefly and give you an R-fac (reality factor).

Simply put, an R-fac is a point of agreement. It’s like when the doctor is about to give you a shot but before he does he informs you that it’s going to hurt a little bit. You agree with what he says. He gives you the shot. It hurts, but you aren’t angry with him because he got your agreement before he did it.

I want you to know that we are about to enter a rather tedious part of this journey. Some of what you are about to read might be difficult for you. There is much that has to be explained and the mechanics can get a bit arduous even, at times, downright boring to navigate through. It wasn’t all that easy to write and it’s not all that easy to read either. But, gaining an understanding of these mechanics (as tedious as it might be) is a critical part in our journey and should not be skipped over.

As we progress onward to the space outside, to that place which is not a place where this universe came into existence, there are numerous realities to become acquainted with. On the way out we are looking at result and on the way back we will be looking at the how and why.

It would be good to pay close attention from here on out.

Thank you. We will be stepping through to the other side of the looking glass any minute now.

A Door Opens - #7 in the series

One day while Bob is away at work, where by the way, people he has worked closely with for years and considered to be his close friends treat him like he has the plague, three men gain access to Bob’s home.  They spend the entire day meticulously going through everything in the house.  They find nothing whatsoever out of the ordinary.  The whole time they are looking the black sphere is sitting out in plain sight on the coffee table in the living room.  They never see it. 

Over the next three weeks every member of the group has their home thoroughly searched.  In each search nothing dangerous, or even suspect, is found. 

The investigators are perplexed. What is being missed? That is the question.  A new strategy of offense is laid down.  At the next meeting of this group they will make a surprise visit en masse.  Of course, the living quarters, phones, cars, work places and the homes of relatives and friends of each member of the dangerous and now “formidable” cult are bugged. Surveillance is extremely tight - nothing will be missed!

At the next meeting the sphere is being passed around as usual.  Some new ideas are being originated and seem even wilder than anything that has ever been presented before. It’s okay.  They’ve gotten used to it.  To this group, anything is possible. The group is completely oblivious to the fact their meeting is not only being heard by a nearby well armed group of men and women, but everything in the meeting is also being viewed via the various hidden micro HD video cameras that were planted the day Bob’s house was searched. 

Then it happens.  Something very strange occurs.  While one of the twenty-nine is turning, lifting and dropping the sphere repeatedly in her hands, she is practically startled out of her wits when a little door suddenly pops open.  She moves so quickly that she seems to levitate off her chair and in an instant she’s next to Bob who was sitting a good ten feet away. As if it were a scalding hot potato, she immediately tosses the sphere to him.  He manages to catch it without a fumble and immediately begins to cautiously inspect where the door popped open. As he peers into the small opening he believes he sees something inside. 

Now the agents who are observing this event on their monitors are beside themselves.  They can’t see or hear a damn thing other than the crazy talk that always goes on at these meetings. Of course, they have never see the sphere and tonight’s no different. However, they do see a sudden commotion taking place and that must mean something big is up. They ready their weapons in preparation for the inevitable.  Just a word, that’s all it will take to set them in motion.  Of course, to these people every single person in this group of twenty-nine is a menacing lunatic and should be swiftly eradicated. But....something else is in store. 

Bob continues to peer through the little open door that has suddenly appeared on the sphere.  He sees what appears to be a very small lever inside.  As he’s going about his inspection he’s giving the group a verbal play by play. He informs the group, “No mistake about it, there is a small lever inside the sphere.  Now what?”  As if in a unified roar, torrents of questions simultaneously pour forth from everyone. After what seems like hours, but is in actuality only a few minutes of discussion, a consensus is reached.  It is agreed that Bob, because he was the one that found the sphere, will reach in and pull the lever.  This group, after months of tossing this thing around and posing sometimes the most absurd ideas as to what it might be, are desperate for some answers.  Tonight a door, both literally and metaphorically, has popped open exposing a lever.  It must be pulled!  And Bob is more up for this than he has ever been for anything in his life.

Bob, holding the sphere in his left hand, very delicately squeezes his right index finger through the little opening.  His finger completely filling the passageway causes him to lose any sight of the lever.  But he definitely feels it.  Ever so gently he wiggles it a tiny bit.  It moves easily.  He begins to slowly push the lever away from its beginning position. At the point, about a millisecond before the lever locks into its new position, time abruptly stands still for Bob.

During this pause in time part of a life’s long occluded memories are once again his to view. He knows exactly what this sphere is, why it’s here and what, because he has pulled the lever down, it is now going to do. 

Bob’s mental machinery whirrs into high gear and begins to open the long sealed shut archives of a series of memory banks that he was totally unaware of. He is suddenly transported elsewhere in time and space. 

The Black Translucent Sphere - # 6 in the series

Bob stood there in his parent’s den in utter disbelief – a state of mind that is quickly transformed into frustration and soon afterwards becomes a torrent of anger that is being intensely directed toward his startled parents. Both of his parents are emphatically insisting that they cannot see the black translucent sphere he says he is holding up in front of their faces. All his parents can see is their usually very normal, predictable and mild mannered son, wildly waving this little cardboard box around exclaiming that it was not a little cardboard box. Bob was so beside himself that he actually began to scream at his parents that he was holding a black translucent sphere that he had found just earlier that morning on the side of the road. “Dam it! There is NO box!!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
Bob left his folks’ place in a storm. He also left behind two extremely hurt, worried, confused and bewildered parents. They had questions. Their only answer – drugs. It had to be drugs! Their wonderful son had obviously recently become a drug addict. That was the only answer that made any sense to them. They were devastated.
While Bob is sitting in his chair in his living room at home, he is sitting there stuck in an emotional turbulence of the like he has never before experienced. He has just encountered a break in reality of a magnitude that he is unable to deal with. For fifty-one years Bob has been his parent’s son. In all of this time there have been only occasional disagreements that have arose between them. Never! Never, has there been anything happen between him and his parents like what just happened this morning. He has questions? His only answer – Alzheimer’s disease. It must be something like that. His wonderful mom and dad must have been simultaneously stricken with Alzheimer’s disease! That was the only answer that made any sense to him. He was devastated.

Slowly emerging out of his emotional whirlwind, Bob made a decision.  When his friend arrived he wasn’t going to say anything at all about the object.  He had it sitting right there in the middle of the coffee table in plain sight.  He was going to wait and see if his friend would notice it. 

When Bob’s friend arrived he had someone with him.  Bob knew this guy but he was more of a friend of Bob’s friend than of his.  Having this other person show up though was a welcome surprise for Bob.  Now he had two “guinea pigs,” to test out on his object that was, by the minute, becoming increasingly more mysterious. 

As Bob asked if his company wanted something to drink, he indicated for them to take a seat on the overstuffed quasi cows hide sofa positioned directly across from his rich solid red heavily poly-urethaned mahogany coffee table.  With his head stuck inside the frig trying to locate the two beers that had been in there for months (Bob’s not much of a drinker), his friend yelled out, “Hey Bob!  What in the hell is this?”  A huge smile breaks across Bob’s face. 

Walking back into the living room carrying the two ice-cold long necks, Bob sees that his friend, looking very puzzled, is holding the sphere. The other friend, though, is just watching TV as if there is nothing at all unusual taking place. It is quickly discovered that only Bob and his best friend can see the object.  Their other friend cannot see anything! He’s not even seeing the little cardboard box that his parent’s claimed that he was holding. Instead, this guy thinks they’re screwing with him. This time Bob doesn’t get frustrated or angry.  Instead, Bob gets very, very interested.  With this discovery he also realizes that his parents do not have Alzheimer’s disease after all.  And with that realization, he experiences a huge wave of relief. 

Many wild and peculiar things take place during the next ten months that follow this first meeting in Bob’s living room.  In fact, you could say that the number of events that would normally occur over a two to three year span were crammed into this ten month period of time.  We are not, though, going to go into any detail regarding those many events.  Instead we are going to return to that first day of Bob's finding the sphere and move forward from there taking up only a few important highlights. 

 Bob tried very hard to repair the gaping hole created between he and his parents. But the collision of the two immensely different realities that day caused irreparable damage.  Bob tried everything he could to close the hole but to no avail.  Because try as he might, Bob could never return to being “that Bob.” The Bob his parents had so intimately known for fifty-one years, “that Bob” was forever gone from their lives. 

On that first day of finding the sphere; after Bob had made the discovery that not everyone could see the object, or if they did see an object, it was some object other than the sphere; he decided to take a picture of it to see what would happen.  He grabbed his digital camera and took several pictures of the sphere from various angles.  He then went into his office and printed out a few copies.  Bob and his best friend could plainly see, in fine detail, the sphere in each photo on all of the prints.  However, their other friend could not ever identify a sphere in any one of the pictures. 

Of course, all the while this strange meeting was transpiring the friend who could not see the sphere was getting more and more confused by what his other two friends were saying and how odd they were acting.  Once he realized that he wasn’t being the object of some sick prank, that this was no joke they were playing on him, he began to get spooked by all this strangeness.  The events going down in this meeting had abruptly leaped way beyond his reality and he was feeling like he had been left very far behind.  On the surface he was appearing to get pissed-off but that was just to hide the actual terror that was beginning to quickly creep through him.

In the days that followed Bob and his friend carried photos of the sphere with them at all times.  There wasn’t a person they came across that they didn’t show these photos to. In fact, they both went out of their way to find people that they could show the photos to. After nine months and who knows how many thousands of people there were who had looked at the photos, only twenty-seven other people were found who could see the sphere.  With Bob and his friend this made twenty-nine people in all who could actually see it. 

Throughout this time of search and discovery the group began to have regular meetings over at Bob’s house centered around discussions regarding the sphere.  This new reality that, for whatever reason, they had come to share, had forged a unique bond between them.  However, this new reality was taking a heavy toll.  It seemed as if all their former relationships that were held together by various tacit and open agreements were disintegrating around them.  It seemed everyone, including spouses, family, other friends and coworkers, were turning against them.  Why?  They were still the same people they had always been.  How can being able to see something that most other people can’t see make you an evil person?  But that is exactly how they began to be treated – as if they had become something evil and alien.

When the group met over at Bob’s they would discuss the object.  They would pass it around and take turns holding it and the ideas about what it might be just kept getting wilder and wilder.  But no matter how much they talked or how many ideas they would come up with, they never got any closer to figuring out what the sphere was.  Then one day at one of the meetings something very strange happened that would change everything. 

 In the meantime while all this was taking place there were some other events coming down the pike that would prove to be quite dangerous to this group of twenty-nine. 

Only twenty-nine people out of thousands of others shared the reality that this sphere existed and they were the only ones that could see it.  Now something that didn’t help the extant state of circumstances was that, in the early days of becoming part of this very exclusive group, the new members talked far too much about what they were doing to way too many people.  And as they talked about this new and strange reality they had and showed their photos of an object no one could see, they began to look more and more weird to everyone outside their special group.  And to some people this little group of twenty-nine began to be perceived as an ominous threat to their very safety.  The next thing you know the story begins to circulate that this little group of twenty-nine is and extremely dangerous cult. Indeed, they began to be broadly thought of as being an actual threat to national security. Some even referred to them as being a “religious cult.”  There were people who said that these twenty-nine were minions of the devil.  Others “knew” they were extraterrestrials here to spy on the inhabitants of the planet before “their kind” invaded and took over control of earth.

Fear is a dangerous emotion.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Bob's Story Begins - #5 in the series

NOTE: Bob's story will help us get to the space outside. Bob's story both reveals and opens many of what, until now, were looking glasses that had been very carefully occluded from view.

Bob’s story is a very, very, verrrrry long story and there are multiple multitudes of layers to it.  And, if that’s not daunting enough, you are not going to find much of anything that is familiar to you in Bob’s story. That being said, I still think you’ll find that Bob’s story is quite interesting even though it might be several light years away from your own reality.  Also, and you can thank me later, I am not even going to attempt to write down Bob’s entire story for you.  It would not be practical and I don’t have enough time left in this lifetime to accomplish a project of that scope.  So what I’m going to do is just skim the top of the skim that’s on the very top of the story.    Now if some of Bob’s story does begin to ring a bell or two of familiarity, then that’s totally okay too.  Just allow yourself to experience it without sticking to it.  Sticking to it is not a good move as, like a rip tide, it can pull you into places that I can assure you are places where you not only do not want to go but are also places where you are not yet ready to go even if you wanted to.

Oh yeah, before we begin, there’s one other item to go over and that is time.  As we get out into Bob’s story we begin to get frequent references to various lengths of time.  The standard of time measurement that Bob is using will not make any sense to you.  Therefore, I have converted all references to time into terms that we’re more accustomed to (earth time).  Even so, the lengths of time that will be referred to in this story are such that you may have some bit of difficulty in being able to get your wits around them. I know that I do.

Bob’s story
We cross paths with Bob early one Saturday morning as he’s making his way to a little hole-in-the-wall Mexican café. He’s remaining true to his long time Saturday morning breakfast ritual. According to Bob this obscure little café makes the worlds best huevos rancheros and this simple little breakfast event is what ushers in his weekends. It is a must!
On his way to the café Bob is driving down the same stretch of road that he drives down everyday. This is the road that is the main artery out of his quiet, but very expansive and overly populated, bedroom community where he lives. He and probably ten thousand plus other people that have chosen to live in this heavily condensed cookie-cutter community routinely drive back and forth on this road everyday making their way to and from the city where they work.
To Bob this Saturday morning seems like any other Saturday morning but it most definitely is not. What is about to occur this unique morning is the second event, in a series, that will have a dramatic impact of enormous magnitude on Bob’s very routine life. The first event Bob has already forgotten about because when it happened Bob immediately invalidated it as being something he had just imagined.
As Bob is about to reach the second of three intersections he has to go through, he catches a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. It’s a box shaped object of some sort. It was lying over in the unkempt grass covered drain ditch off to the right of the road and just past the unusually wide shoulder. For some unexplainable reason his attention becomes riveted to this thing. In fact, it’s all he can think about during his breakfast, which, on this particular morning, he robotically devours. He decides that on his way back he is going to make it a point to swing back by and see if this object is still there.
When he later drives by the spot in the road where he thinks he first saw the object he can’t see it anywhere. His attention, however, remains glued to this area and demands that he pull over and at least take a closer look. He complies. What he finds puzzles him greatly. Instead of a box shaped object he finds a sphere. It’s smaller than a bowling ball but larger than a soft ball. It’s solid black but at times appears to be translucent. It looks heavy but when he reaches down and picks it up it’s as light as a feather. It’s as if he has picked up a form that has no substance. Bob is both baffled and exhilarated by this!
Bob’s first impulse is to give his best friend a call and tell him to get over to Bob’s house right away so that he can show him his find. However, Bob has promised his parents that he would be dropping by for a short visit and he doesn’t want to disappoint them by not doing so. So as he heads over to their place located deep in the historic section of the old inner city all he can think about is the sphere. On his way he calls his friend and leaves him a message to meet him at his house later in the afternoon. Of course, he plans to show his “find” to his parents. Why not? True, they’re up in years but they certainly aren’t dim witted and they definitely aren’t senile. Who knows, maybe they might have some good ideas about what this mystery object is.
Before the gravel in his parent’s driveway has even come to a rest under his car’s tires, Bob’s got his door open and is practically leaping out of his car clutching his mysterious object. As his mom opens a front door that is in serious need of refinishing and a rusty hinge loudly broadcasts an eardrum-piercing squeak, Bob springs into the house gushing with excitement. His mom immediately asks, “What are you doing with that cardboard box?” He shakes his head as if to dislodge something from his ears. He has no cardboard box he has a black translucent sphere. He must have heard her wrong.