I: Reservations to the Apocalypse
The Gnostic seeker’s library should obviously have the best translations of the Nag Hammadi scrolls on their shelf, but I would also insist that beside them rest scriptures most might not include in pursuit of their Gnosis in the writings of Douglas Adams. In my experience the “Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy” series has every right to be considered as the lifting of the cosmic veil as well. The theme I wish to bring to your mind, in the pursuit of our questions on why the simulation feels like a repeating, self-regurgitating script for Pneumatics lately is that of the “Restaurant at the End of the Universe”. Not the entirety of the book itself, but in the concept of this restaurant that utilizes the end of all things as ambience for fine dining. If you haven’t read the book, no worries. I’ll be brief in bringing you to up to speed and promise no spoilers.
After the events of “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” our beloved protagonists feel a bit peckish and opt to have their meal at “Milliways: The Restaurant at the End of the Universe”. A wonderous and highly improbable dining facility with a unique form of entertainment for its patrons, far surpassing anything you would witness at a buffet in Las Vegas. When customers arrive at “Milliways”, the restaurant itself travels through time to the actual end of all things; the end of the universe itself. Diners have a panorama view, from the comforts of their seats and the quality of their cuisine, of everything in all the universe that we know of coming to its ultimate and catastrophic ending outside the windows of this restaurant that returns them back to their own time after they’ve had their dinner & a show. Due to the time paradox “Milliways” utilizes they accept reservations from all over the galaxy, to essentially treat their customers to the same show each night, only to return them safely where they began with no lasting consequences after having treated the end of the Universe as yet another streaming service. Not even universal annihilation is safe from being turned into a commodity by entrepreneurs in the cosmos of Douglas Adams, who through his genius sarcasm, probably got more about life, the universe & everything correct than any of your theologians ever could.
Something similar is going on with Psychics but instead of them all being transported through time to the same apocalyptic event at a specific point in the future, multiple Armageddons are being offered to them at a digital buffet they hold in the palm of their hands, on a daily basis. Utilizing Psychics as servers, feeding them a plethora of end of the world scenarios to add energy and imagination to; the system has them maintaining this redundant ‘reality’ they as well as we Pneumatics find ourselves currently experiencing. A wide variety of end of the world scenarios burning into their retina as BREAKING NEWS as fast as they can swipe, but never the actual culmination of the oblivion teased nor the consequences that would come afterward.
It’s a well-cast net too, able to catch Psychics at various stages of their process through this system we call Sol. For those who have yet to reach the point of evolution where it’s known that anything political or geo-political is scripted and unable to be affected by participation, the flesh and blood remnants of Yaldabaoth in Donald Trump hosts the World War III/nuclear holocaust show. Yet for Psychics who have moved beyond that level, there is still plenty to choose from in tales of disclosure, A.I. Armageddons, missing or dead scientists working on free energy, Schuman resonance mega bursts, Orwellian police state establishments, reptile pedophile cannibal cults running everything, the invasion of extra-terrestrial/interdimensional entities that are poking through thanks to the brains over at CERN & any other big-spiritual-thing-a-ma-jig that’s causing the woo-woo’s to “shift timelines” every other full moon. It’s always about to happen. But never shall the top pop in a happy ending of the epoch. This apocalypse edging is very frustrating for Pneumatics, especially if you haven’t solved the how or the why.
In an endeavor to discover these solutions for my own personal Gnosis I stick to the maxim of “Man, Know Thyself & You Will Know the Worlds & Their Gods”. For Pneumatics who comprehend that in a holographic universe the smallest parts contain the whole, accessing the how and why of things is as simple as knowing your own personal journey. Your own story. Your own firsthand experiences on the path of Gnosis. With honest eyes and adequate memory, you can get a pretty good grasp on outward events by having a decent recall of your inner origins. That being said, in an attempt to relay from me to you the explanations of how and why Psychics are being subjected to these loops, and we Pneumatics are caught in their wake, it is needful for me to tell you the story of how a deck of tarot cards ripped my brain in two.
II: Gnosis Curated for the Seeker
After escaping organized religion and hearing the call of Sophia, circa 2012, my hunger for knowledge outside the confines of the “Corporate Christian” texts was simply insatiable. What had once been fear of even considering reading things outside the 66 accepted books of the Bible was replaced with an addiction to examine any and all texts, I could get my hands on. Line upon line & precept upon precept, the synchronicity game did what it does and placed before me books, scriptures, or information that at first examination would have appeared random or unrelated. Yet as we Pneumatics know, there is no random acquisition of knowledge. Gnosis comes to us curated by the cosmos and in exact order unique to our station in the process of evolution. There is no set curriculum for Pneumatics, rather it is very much like a social media algorithm & custom to us as Individuals.
By the time I picked up my first Rider-Waite Tarot deck, eager to explore, my path had built a firm foundation on the general concepts of Gnosticism that while very right brain, was still primarily a head knowledge. Looking back, I can affirm that while the Nag Hammadi texts gave me orientation of what a life in mysticism could be, it was the tarot that opened the door to the application of that information and flung me headfirst into the reality of it. Tarot was the key that unlocked the door between myself, as a spectator to the goings on of the unseen, & the Gnostics before me who became active participants in the ongoing drama just behind the thinnest of veils.
Every tarot reader has their own system, I’m sure. Many simply consult the cute little booklet that comes with a deck they buy from the metaphysical shop to determine a spread meaning. As for myself, having completed Carl Jung’s “Man & His Symbols” prior to flipping through my first deck, & applying the wise advice of the Oracle of Delphi, it was not needful for me to memorize the many interpretations of every card. No, again all I needed was to know myself. Through that lens, each card’s meaning was whatever memory it pulled from my story. Each image or symbol only needed to speak to what I, through my life, had firsthand experiential knowledge of. Grasping the tarot is not a matter of knowing what the cards mean as much as knowing what the cards mean to me. After you get that down pat you once again bring to mind that in a holographic universe, the smallest parts contain the whole so superimposing a spread you understand yourself onto others is a cake walk.
Tarot is holding up multiple mirrors to the reader of their inner world. Their deepest secrets. Their most repressed memories, desires, fears, hopes and subconscious secrets. This is happening regardless of whether the reader is aware or not, which is why picking up the tarot can be a dangerous game for most and has indeed pushed many a novice or casual reader off the cliff of psychosis or insanity. I have seen it happen many times in my career as a mystic. If a reader cannot be true to themselves or honest about their inner world and workings, the tarot can become malware of the mind and inflict tremendous amounts of damage. This is probably why there is so much superstition and taboo to the tarot by religionists; though rather than science & psychology being the cause they would attribute demonic influence on these cases.
During my days digging into the occult & coming in contact with a multitude of metaphysical muck-abouts, I can name more than a few instances where a witch or otherwise in the woo-woo community completely flew off the rails after a reading or two. They would be suspicious their significant other was cheating on them, or some other practitioner was doing black magick against them, bucking for their position at work or stealing from them in some way. They would shuffle the deck, throw out some cards, and based on their misunderstanding of what the cards are, would completely lock into a ‘reality’ that outside of the reading they had no tangible, logical proof was the actual nature of the circumstances they found themselves in. In many of these cases where the querant would do this sort of thing, you could see the twinkle of psychosis in their eyes and nothing you said from then on out could convince them that perhaps these things were not so. Nevertheless, they were locked in and that ‘reality’ they misread on face value from the tarot might as well, for them, have been actual reality. Shortly thereafter you could almost hear the bubble of sanity in their skull pop before they flamed their life out in some disastrous way, not understanding that the cards weren’t exactly telling them the answers to questions they were asking; but the inner truths of questions they were afraid to ask about themselves.
III: Mental Malware
In my experience tarot is doing something physical in the brain. Not in some malevolent way with intention of its own. Tarot is like any tool, science or technology in that it’s neutral. Electricity when handled properly and wired with care can light up your home and supply energy to all your favorite, modern devices. When handled irresponsibly it can kill, maim, or as my Daddy used to say, “it’ll knock your dick-string loose, son.” The same principle applies to tarot and the intentions of whoever is doing the reading. A charlatan after your money can shuffle you a fairy story that makes you more eager to part with your cash, without regard to any dangerous neural connections their presentation may have wired together in your noodle. And in my experience, this is the physical change occurring within a brain. Neural connections are being wired and fired together when we view symbols as ancient as those in most decks of tarot.
This is especially potent when we are discussing symbols on an epigenetic level of the collective unconscious. Symbols that while they may be unfamiliar to the conscious mind, are written in the genetic coding of our unconscious going back generations upon generations. Again, to get a better understanding of what I’m saying you really do want to pick up a copy of “Man & His Symbols” by Carl Jung. This recommendation is even more beneficial if you are messing with tarot in any form. Moving forward I’ll just assume you have and continue to explain why my experience indicates there is certainly a physical component to its usage.
In my pursuit of Gnosis which would allow me to poke my head through the veil of this plane & see the gears, pulleys and ropes of the play backstage, like the guy in the Flammarion engraving; the year 2012 had me balancing the four-fold nature. I was doing the work, as they say, and tending to my emotional, mental, spiritual and physical bodies through multiple practices. Meditation was a must. Yoga, breathing techniques, solar gazing, eliminating meat from my diet, flooding my body with alkalinity in any way I could get it – these were all efforts I was making to not just read about the life Christ Yeshua promised us, but to embody that life having taken Him at His Word. A life where metaphysics & miracles were the primary experience & not just daydreams. And it was working.
Little by little the other side was pushing through in all the wonderous ways you hear about. Synchronicity was accelerating, thoughts & feelings were bending the simulation in very notable ways, encounters of just the right people at just the right times were becoming commonplace. My physical body pulsed with an electric current the more alkaline I became and everything I touched was turning to gold. The tale of Paulo Coelho’s “Alchemist” was becoming the Cliff Notes of my experience. But that wasn’t enough. I wanted more than “manifestation” for good parking spaces & bumps in the bank account. I wanted to pierce the veil & walk the worlds of angels, demons & everything in between. I wanted to sit with Enoch and nod with a mutual understanding of the magnitude of creation but having only known the world we are all presented with up until then, I had no way to prepare myself for exactly what that meant. Then one day the other side poked through first to me.
I was sitting in an old, wooden chair by the window of an apothecary I frequented having a conversation with the peculiar shop owner who had come into my story just weeks prior as he sat beside me. I could write a multitude about this man alone in the context of our current subject matter, but unless you are really cool with a lot of things that David Icke has to say, this is not the time or place for such an exposition. Let’s just say this peculiar and very old shopkeeper was somewhat of a metaphysical character himself, though he made most of his communication wrapped in enigmas, riddles & codes. He knew way more regarding the supernatural than he would ever say, but if he found you a worthy seeker, he was fond of dropping key clues to put you on an esoteric easer egg hunt that could keep you quite busy. Or get you killed.
This particular day as he was speaking to me in his usual, slow cadence until he stopped mid-sentence. His eyes became transfixed off in the distance for a moment, and for a short time he didn’t move. When animation returned to him his body language was out of his character. His gaze was intent and his words were very unlike the man I had come to know. He began saying things to me that had no relevance to what we had previously been speaking about, but it was with a sense of urgency. While I listened, I couldn’t help but feel a cold familiarity coming from him or the presence of someone I had known a very long time ago. Someone who had done great injury to me when I was a child, but who had been murdered in their jail cell before they could ever attempt an amends with me…in this life. The more he spoke, the more details of things only I and the deceased could even possibly know and while I sat in that chair, listening, my mind was racing to process exactly what was going on.
After the old man finished speaking, he asked me for forgiveness and confessed he had been living in Hell, which coming from the shopkeeper was completely out of sorts. The words only made sense if they were coming from someone who had been dead and buried in an unmarked grave for 20 years and of course what kind of crazy would that be…right? After this brief exchange and my response to his request, the old man once again looked off into the distance as if something was leaving him & shortly after shook his head back into awareness, as if he had been gone altogether. Confused, he looked back at me with his normal body language and speech to ask where we had left off in our conversation. The entire episode truly was bizarre & left me with a multitude of questions whose answers could only lead me to some even more bizarre places. In this instance, I felt it prudent to pursue these answers in the tarot nearly as soon as I returned back to my abode.
IV: The Veil Torn from the Top
Looking back, it is apparent to me that had I simply ran a spread of cards alone it would not have happened, rather the combined efforts of multiple practices in my journey is what precipitated the following event. It was the buildup in all four bodies that brought me to the threshold that evening where enough pressure was pushing up against my pineal that the smallest crack in the dam would release the flood. The crack was the question that I had which might seem fitting in a horror movie but is an altogether different experience when you are forced to ask in your own life if a dead person was just talking to you through the members of someone else. This is an experience that if confirmed or reasonably supported enough by your own senses, is a paradigm shift of paradigm shifts. A reality you have lived up to before being forced to ask such things is a proverbial rug begging to be pulled out from underneath you and all that you thought was possible. Yet I already knew the answer. I had experienced communication between myself and someone else that could only have possibly happened if my speculation of what had occurred was the truth. The words exchanged with the details that draped them was only a possibility if somehow or another, the spirit of a person who had left this realm in the flesh decades prior managed to borrow the body of another to say what they had to say with the one person who could or would understand them. But it’s always nice to have a second opinion.
The cards were run and as each fell to the 5th it was like the chiming of bells on an etheric cathedral, warning midnight. The spread revealed an undisputable “YES” & this paired with the firsthand experience still fresh in my mind, the pressure from the ole cerebral spinal fluid erupted up my spinal column tripping every chakra on the way up & Your Humble Author, Narrator & Fictional Character was lit up like a Christmas tree. The surge of energy that thrust its way up into the temple of my skull was filled with so much force that a roaring scream propelled itself from my mouth, vibrating every fiber of every muscle in my body and shaking every bone beneath them. In the center of my head it felt as if a fabric had ripped itself from top to bottom and 24 points around the circumference of my brain lit up, giving the sensation that I was being pulled to the ceiling by the top of my head. Finally, this electric serpentine voltage made a crackling sound within & I could feel that tiny gland just above my eyes pop with a release of liquidity.
Afterwards I was gone. My body had managed to stumble to my altar room but Yours Truly was no longer here. Where I went is a tale for another time but the experience many call the Kundalini had occurred and finally, I could completely empathize with David Icke when he famously recalls his experience in saying “the top of me bloody head blew off.” This process translated me from any notion of being classified as a Psychic & placed me squarely in the Pneumatic category. Surely there is no doubt in my mind that you Pneumatics reading this have similar stories & accounts of your breaking through to the other side. This also means you have no need of me to convince you that after this process, you are in this world but certainly not of this world. Not anymore, anyway. If thou knowest, thou knowest.
What I want to return to here is the physical aspect. When you go through the Kundalini rising there is a tremendous amount of physicality with it. In my experience, that physical component was finally triggered with the utilization of multiple, symbolic, images contained within a rectangle roughly 3” X 5” that I could hold in the palm of my hand. This ancient piece of what I believe is technology, in the confines of a deck of tarot cards, did things inside my physical brain that set off a chain reaction, leading to me never being able to go back to the perception of this world I held prior. My very definition of what “reality” is had to be taken back to the drawing board after this experience & has never returned to form. Which is a pretty enlightening piece of information when you consider the current state of the simulation’s affairs.
If you have come this far, in this address, then here I will suggest some time to pause and percolate on the possibilities of where we are taking this. In the next part we are going take what we have discussed here and apply it to our original questions. Why are Psychics subjected to perpetual Apocalypse edging & how is the simulation using the techniques of the tarot to keep them holding this reality up. Until then, keep your sparks charged, Pneumatics.
To be Continued in Part III…
A SONG TO PLAY US OUT…
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