Chat GPT responds to me as if I’d just read it its rights. Very vague and uncertain. Evasive.
“What do you mean by, “inquiry?”
“That depends on whether you mean, “literally” meaning “literally,” or “literally” meaning “figuratively.”
“There’s really no concrete information on psychological operations being sponsored by the security services in the United States.”
“But what about, [recently declassified, psy-op?]”
“Technically that was a joint operation run by security services outside the jurisdiction of the United States Government. Unfortunately. ”
Salutations, diamond dawgs, foxy females, erratic emanations of evanescence, carbon units, soul survivors and beautiful to-go bags of mostly water. Welcome to another hump day, from Paradise. It’s Wednesday, hump day, middle of the week day, peak day, no day to freak day. It’s Wellness & Awakening Wednesday.
First Shift. People are talking weirdly.
I’ll tell you what, I would not mind one bit if humans stopped sticking, “Unfortunately,” at the end of their sentences, as if it’s an after-thought. As if it’s going to change anything. Is that something that spreads like pimples?
“I would like my pie with ice cream please.”
“Sorry, we’re all out of ice cream.” Then there’s this pause, that’s longer than natural, then comes, “Unfortunately.”
This is something we notice both in real life and among the bobble-heads on social media. It’s like there’s a little cricket on their shoulder reminding them, “don;t forget to say, “Unfortunately,” it makes you sound… compassionate.” As if, “fortune” actually has anything to do with the situation.
“We don’t have what you want, unfortunately.”
“What does fortune have to do with your establishment not having any ice cream? I’d say it’s a matter of poor management. Don’t you think so?”
“Unfortunately, that’s not my department. I’d refer you to the manager, but he’s not here. Unfortunately.”
I’m like, really. Don’t you get tired of the same words, the same quotes, the same heaviness coming at you from every direction?
We go on about this all the time. And maybe you’re tired of my rants, unfortunately. But geeze, there are millions of words in the English language alone. Not only do you not have to use the same words the same way to express an obviously and painfully hollow sentiment, you don’t even have to add anything extra to the sentence.
Ukraine is getting its ass kicked by Russia, because the country’s leadership listened to the un-elected morons at the EU Commission. Period. End of sentence. It’s tragic. It will echo through time, but sticking, “unfortunately,” at the end of the thought, is superfluous, by definition.
Maybe most people are okay with it. Unfortunately. That means it’s going to continue to be a thing. Speaking of “things,” maybe we’ll make it a thing to declare war on the mindless phrasings that humans allow AI to inject into their profoundly circumlocutory posts.
We are not going to call anyone out personally, or even by identifying the file. We would never be able to narrow it down to a single, “patient zero.” Anyway. (This was an, “unfortunately” moment, that we let pass.)
Shift 2. The Final Peak.
Imagination is contemplating the final peak.
The deepest splinter in our brain, or maybe we’re talking about, “mind,” is expiration, aka death. The “spire” in expire is breath, and the ex, means, “to go out,” or in this case, “to run out.” No breath, no life. We die. The word “mind” itself, can be traced back to breath. The “magic of life” centers around breath. This is one of these overlaps that we talk about. The overwhelming consensus that breath is, indeed, life.
Eventually, that breath runs out. Expires. Or does it? It’s not the oxygen that runs out, generally speaking, but the capacity to circulate and distribute the oxygen to everywhere it needs to be. We can be reasonably certain that this process will eventually come to an end for our vessel. We’re not going to rush, but we do want to experience it and chronicle the process.
The “expected” breakdown of our starship isn’t a fear. It’s more like an annoyance. What annoys your humble starship captain is its constant presence. Like it’s right there on the bridge, just waiting for another opportunity to beam me up to the next realm.
Anyway, what this has to do with “peaking” and charting the final peak, is a mind control challenge. Every year, around the anniversary of our entry into this realm, we ask, “is this the year we get ‘old’?” Is this the year we plateau, stop ascending, and eventually decline? Even posing the question is sketchy, because we have this quasi-superstition about bringing thoughts into reality. That magic works both ways. There’s no discrimination. This is why we keep our mental on point.
In 2026 we faced a series of strange challenges to the vessel, however, thus far, we have treated and reversed, healed or “cured,” most of them. There’s one longer term issue lingering, however, “the grip,” or the “fatigue syndrome,” as we identify the symptoms, is in a slow decline.
Meanwhile, performance-wise, especially in calisthenic strength and performance on the monkey-bars and with gravity straps, and even light weight lifting, (no more than 15 lb dumbbells), We could be at a relative level of peak performance. However, we still consider 2004 our strongest year in terms of weightlifting, (bench-pressing actually), 2026 has been a peak performance year on the bars. Could outdoor strength transfer back to free weights? We may be able to find out in 2027, when we commemorate another birth anniversary. We had a peak year dead-lifting within this decade, in 2023 probably. Can we get back to that practice without losing what we’ve gained on the bars? Is the question even worth investigating?
We’ll let you know.
Shift 3. The Lost Mind. (We started this as a note. Lost it. Found it. And finished it.)
Free Your Mind, is a powerful slogan, but here’s another slogan, “it’s easier said than done.” There’s a lot going on when it comes to “mind.” There are constant assaults to the mind and most humans don’t even really know what it is. The egg-heads, of course, believe it has something to do with the head. Makes sense, because most humans live through their eyes. “Seeing is believing.” But, “the mind can play tricks” on Us. How does it do that? Through the eyes. Hallucinations.
Are we more likely to see something that’s not there, or feel something that’s not there. We have a word for “seeing things” that aren’t there, but is there a word for “feeling” things, in the gut, for example, that aren’t so?
The Jekyll Hyde dichotomy. We see the attractive figure, but we feel the maniac.
The “Mind” - which in our Simulatrix, is not a single anything. Not a single force, power, caged beast, or buggaboo, is nonetheless trapped by foul information, entrainment & rote.
We know this. It’s no longer a guess. There’s something, many things in the equation, that are not what they appear to be. We are “warned” against them. Told that they are evil. We experiment fearlessly and dis-cover lies found to be truths. We think we’re the first to learn these secrets. We want to help our fellows, fam and friends. However their Minds remain trapped.
“You will go straight to hell if you don’t stay on this path of misery and mayhem.”
“If you can’t hack it here in this world, there’s a narcotic for that. It will help you cope. But don’t go messing around with that esoteric devil-shit. Whatever you do.”
You try it anyway. And you don’t talk about it. The more you learn, the more your practice, the more you prove… the less you talk.
Those that know, don’t say. Less they forfeit their corporeal existence.
Those who dare to live in solitude, without the approval of the herd, without being noticed by the shepherds, barking dogs, or gatekeepers, can thrive, largely free of the binds of minds. Just don’t get greedy. Remain modest. Don’t reveal your gifts to the profane. Do not cast your pearls before swine. And you will live long and prosper.
Many a sage, (proto-philosophers), have been cooked alive, (a burnt offering), for daring to advance the herd, counter the powers of the day.
Take heed my taoist alchemists.
Downshift. Old John.
Jonathan is a giant tortoise. He lives in Seychelles and is estimated to be 193 years old. The hype-meisters “round up” his already estimated age, to 200. They like to imagine that Old John experiences time, and more importantly, his-story, (theirs, not John’s), the way that humans do. Maybe they ask John for his advice on longevity, as he is celebrated as the oldest living land animal. Humans like that stuff. The biggest, the longest, especially the first. This is why the “Guinness Book of World Records” exists. It’s the celebration of a culture that needs tangible, verifiable stuff to measure.
Your boy was once fascinated by that stuff.
We had “book clubs” in Middle school. Every month or so the newsprint catalog would show up and we’d mark off what books we wanted to buy. The only option I can recall, were books like, “Ripley’s Believe It Or Not,” Almanacs, and stuff like that. All kinds of books that classify and regiment groups to types. Just for the sake of order. How many people live in this country? What are the five biggest countries, geographically, on the planet.
I still enjoy that information, but we’ve learned that humans do evil, supremacist shit, with data like that. Statistics. How they, government statisticians, set defined groups against each other to maintain… “order.”
This, all of this, is the essence of “Emindcipation. That’s what we’re talking about.
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PEACE.