The peaceful and wrathful visions were made flesh in the city. The bright lights paradoxically occluding the true nature of reality. Needs, wants, and attachments were on the menu. Extreme pleasures that left the mind aroused and confused. Chasing one hallucination after another, night after night, they drowned in a sea of synthetic pleasures.
In meditation, peaceful and wrathful visions manifested themselves as a hallucinatory world of insatiable attractions, positive and negative visions that sent one into anguish, especially when the practitioner was unprepared to face the phantasms of his own consciousness. But if through careful contemplation he remembered the nature of his own being, then the visions dissipated like mist, and a transcendent light of emptiness filled awareness, like a diamond across the sky.
But in the city, the lights were always on. Glaring on the organic and inorganic. Constant desires and wants. Life thrived and grew at an accelerated pace; there was always something to see, something to smell, to taste, to embrace and experience with all the senses.
Overlooking the port that foggy night, his face reflected on Amber’s shades. One of Lou’s contact tonight. She wore a red jacket and her lips were the color of cherry bubblegum.
They greeted each other and casually shook hands. When they touched, media files crawled along her skin like little butterflies and fluttered under his skin.
Lou felt the stream of files tingle through his fingers and move into the palm of his hand.
“Is this also an illusion?” she asked him with a crooked smile.
He didn’t answer.
The fog was rolling in from the Sea of Peace.
As she disappeared in the whirling mist, she sang a line from an old Beatles’ song.
“Boy, you’re gonna carry that weight…a long time.”
Then each went their separate way.
He adjusted his jacket and walked down an alley to avoid the cameras and drones.
This night, he missed the simple world of the mountains.
That it would come to this, he thought grimly. Surveillance and censorship run amok to the point that you have to meet clandestinely just to exchange files of flowers and sunsets. Personal biology was the only secure method of transfer, and even that was now under threat with the new class of viral spy-ware they had "accidently" released.
There was only one accepted reality, and the corporate state was its arbiter. A few, like Lou, were pushing back, and Neo-Victoria was the front line in that battle.
Magister Thurman words rang in his ears.
“The time had come to spread the teachings, I said to the old men of the mountains. They knew I was right but still refused to let go of their precious knowledge until history forced their hand. What good is it to have insights if you don’t share them with the world in its time of need? If that knowledge is as powerful as you say, I argued, then let’s lay the cards on the table. Now is the time to put up or shut up.”
The Keepers and Magister Council had finally relented and decided to share some of their wisdom with the world. Stuck in their old ways, they knew they could not do it themselves. Much to their chagrin, there was only one man suited for the job- Magister Thurman.
When Lou first arrived in the city, he met the flamboyant magister who was CEO (cosmic executive officer) of Holoretina Inc. A holographic multimedia company that created experiences for clients in a number of industries. He employed initiates from the various orders to design games, movies, ads, and any number of holographic experiences based on the tenets of esoteric work that up to then had been kept locked in the mountains.
“I wouldn’t fit in their hierarchy,” Magister Thurman once said to Lou. “I was brilliant but unpredictable. They couldn’t send me back to the village lest I blow the locals’ fuses off. So they sent me to Neo-Victoria to put into practice what had for so long remained a secret.”
In the city, Magister Thurman quickly put his manic energy to developing his holographic empire. Theater for the mind. He was perfect for the role. His manic energy, his mordant wit, and mystical inspiration quickly grew the company into one of the most successful. Too much so. It attracted the attention of extreme elements and shady actors.
“I was right all along,” said Magister Thurman. “A battle was brewing, and the old men had metaphysicked themselves into a corner. With their back against the mountains, there was nowhere to go but inward. No clouds looming on the horizon. Om sweet om, as they used to say. All is one. All is empty. All is an illusion and attachment. All is a void. Meaningless platitudes to the average Joe and Jane on the street. But if you show them the pieces of the game and allow them to recombine the elements of experience, rearrange them in whatever fashion they see fit, then they’ll discover the path to awareness all on their own. A path that leads to freedom as clear as a blue sky.”
The magister chuckled.
Lou knew you couldn’t take him seriously most of the time. He had a piquant sense of humor. Many thought he was just a clown, especially during his live performances. He certainly had his share of detractors. Maybe he was a bit of a jester, but of his earnest zeal there was not a single doubt in Lou’s mind.
“But why am I here?” Lou had asked him when he first arrived in Neo-Victoria. “I’m not like you, Magister. I’m boring. I like order and predictability. I want to run my own monastery and live out the rest of my life in search of transcendence.”
“A great test is coming, Lou. Something unfathomable. Unthinkable. It will touch every corner of the world with its long tentacles. Yes, even the mystic mountains. There is no escape. You are here to serve as witness to this event. But first, please get me a cup of coffee.”
His infamous smile flashed again.
Now here was Lou walking among the arcades and porn shops. His skin crawling with files the government had deemed illicit. A sunset. The waves of the ocean. Flowers blooming on the hills. Every holographic experience had to be approved by the government and industry cronies. All images were copyrighted and could not be used by anyone without their explicit approval.
“Hey baby, you’re up for some fun tonight?”
Lou entered the shadows beneath the bridge and saw her glowing eyes.
“I sure am,” he said.
“What did you have in mind, sugar?”
He extended his hand.
“Ooo… I love hand-jobs,” she said and shook his hand.
His skin flickered at her touch. When the file transfer was complete, her lips glittered.
“Nice doing business with you, baby,” she said and disappeared in the foggy dew.
“Good night, Nikki.”
“Of course it’s all a grand illusion,” Magister Thurman had said. “This is precisely why we must understand it. It’s infinite intricacies. All is one and therefore empty, they murmured up in the mountain. Then they stopped and sat down. Why stop at one? There is a whole number system after that. Unimaginable complexity. You will see in time yourself, grasshopper, and when you go back up that mountain, let the old men know that the world of illusion is about to catch up to them if they don’t release the rest of the files.”
Magister Thurman was right. Lou would go back to the mountain one day and finally become a magister himself. A Keeper of the Keys even. He would have the power to influence the outcome of events. In the meantime, he walked on with his gaze on the horizon, trying to maintain awareness of his surroundings, its peaceful and wrathful manifestations, avoiding the temptations of attachment and practicing compassion for the myriad beings still mired in this world of illusion.
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