Review of Aug 3 Reading Turnbull’s Hot August Blues

December 13, 2017

I am learning quite a few lessons in playing with Political Astrology. One thing I’ve learnt is not to be stuck on particular issues and events because these change quickly. Rather than looking at the external events of the moment I have to look at the emotional “ambience” of the politician over a period of time.

 

When we look at our weather apps we find probabilities for rain and general descriptions of overall weather for day and week.  It gets harder to forecast weather over a week in the future.

So, instead of giving specific particular events highlighted by the passing planetary angles to the person’s chart (Transits) maybe it would be better to give probabilities of metaphoric “rainy” and “sunny” days/weeks/period.

It just happens that the last post on Turnbull’s August days had indications which showed a very “rainy” period ahead. In fact the transits showed a hurricane rather than just a storm. And events proved that right. Things have been very heavy for Turnbull especially with the dual citizenship crap.

So, from now on – no more SPECIFIC events but rather a general vibe of where things are heading – just like a long term weather forecast 🙂

 

Advertisements

Malcolm Turnbull’s Hot August Blues

August 3, 2017

Just a few notes on the next few weeks of this month about Prime Minister Turnbull’s emotional weather. This forecast is based on a few important planetary aspects which the planets of this month are making with Turnbull’s natal chart.

For those new to astrology – these angles of the planets’ movements against the blueprint of a person’s birth are called transits.

There are 4 major transits occurring for Turnbull in August.

One – Uranus Squaring (90 degrees) Uranus of his birth chart started in 24 May, 2017 and will last until 16 October 2017.

It was in an exact square (90 degrees) on 17 June, 2017 and will be again on 20 September, 2017. 

This transit happens around the age 20 – 21 and again in the mid 60’s. When it occurs there’s a desire for freedom and an urge to break away from authority. Hence its connection with young adulthood and the age of retirement. When you are in your twenties it manifests as rebellious energy and seeking new worlds, new experiences.

When it happens in the mid 60’s it may manifest itself as a need to break free of responsibilities and to exhale a sigh of freedom. There’s a feeling that you have done enough and have given a huge amount of time and energy to everybody and everything except yourself. Now it’s time to be yourself and think about starting again on a new venture. It feels like the ideal time to make the move.

In Turnbull’s life it may manifest as time to express his true beliefs and give a big middle finger to the conservative forces in the Liberal National Party. We all know what he thinks about same sex marriage and the republic.  This transit may form the background psychological muzac that comforts him – the siren call of a new life out of politics. He can do what he likes – he’s rich enough.

So, I wouldn’t be surprised if he just walks off the job – does a NSW Premier Baird act – spend more time with the family – which is really – get away from this hell and spend some time doing what he wants rather than what he feels is his duty.

If he does walk it may happen around 20 September.

The feeling to leave will be particularly fed by the other three transits occurring in August.

Let’s look at the first coming up now.

Mars square Saturn:  Sunday 6 August, 2017 

TUrnbull Transits Mars sq Saturn 6 Aug 2017 copy

This transit was in an exact 90 degree angle – square on Sunday 6 August, 2017 at 11.39AM. As with all transits the planets are moving and as they get closer to the birth chart planet they are waxing in their influence and as they leave they wane in their influence. So, this transit was starting its influence about a week or so before.

We saw this with Abbott’s team input and the same sex marriage plebiscite issue.

Mars squaring Turnbull’s Saturn shows frustrated anger and the fact that conservatives are trying to stop a vote on SSM may lead Turnbull to want to smash something.

If he loses his patience on Monday, 7 August in the special Party meeting he may make a pivotal mistake for his political career. However, as stated earlier with the Uranus aspect playing in the background it shouldn’t be a biggie for his inner world.

Mars square Mercury: Wednesday 9 August 2017 

Mercury in this context is communication and seeing it’s in the political arena we may see Turnbull say something which can be construed as a weapon if he is annoyed. It looks like he will be after that special Party meeting. In the above chart Mercury is right next to Saturn.

Mars conjunct Pluto: Thursday 31 August 2017 

TUrnbull Transits Mars conj Pluto 31 Aug 2017 titles

After the special Party meeting on 7 August Turnbull has been annoyed and we may see around this day, Thursday 31 August a ruthless power struggle. This could be expressed in ego trips – between Tony Abbott and Turnbull.

After all this we may see Malcolm Turnbull either walk away or be toppled around Wednesday 20 September.

Please remember the dates mentioned above are approximate and that this reading is an emotional weather forecast of our Prime Minister. Not all weather forecasts are correct but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a good idea to bring along an umbrella just in case.

For more info see this post >>

Predicting Election Results with Astrology

https://dodona777.wordpress.com/2016/04/01/predicting-election-results-with-astrology/


Emotional Weather Forecasting – Political Astrology

June 10, 2017

I’ve decided from now on when I do astrological analysis and forecasting about politics I will only forecast the “emotional weather”.

When I did the Australian Election in 2016 I forecast an ALP Shorten win. In the review of the astrological reading I wrote that the forecast could be considered correct because the reading was really a “Joy Meter” ie which of the candidates would feel joy at the final result. Looked at this way the astrological reading was spot on because Turnbull was miserable and Shorten was joyful at the result. However, given the way the voting system worked with preferences etc Turnbull’s LNP won.

So, my prediction was wrong. If I predicted who would be joyous, my prediction would have been correct.

The method I used with the Australian Election was based on the transits (planets passing over the birth chart) on the day of the election. Doing the Election forecast this way meant that I had two horoscopes to look at – Malcolm Turnbull’s and Bill Shorten’s.  These links give the transits and their readings leading up to 2 July, 2016 election.

When I did the UK Election in 2017 horoscope I thought I’d experiment and do a national UK – Britain chart with the transiting Election date planets.

In this case there was no comparison “Joy Meter” of the candidates because I didn’t do Therese May’s or Jeremy Corbyn’s horoscopes. I just did the national chart. On Dec. 25, 1066 William the Conqueror was crowned King of England and this is the birth date of Britain I used. Click here for an interesting reading of this chart.

United Kingdom Horoscope

UK 1066

UK Election Transits over Britain’s Horoscope

UK Election June 8 2017 1066

And this is the tweet I sent before the start of the Election 2017.

Twitter UKElection Tweet for Blog

 

I said the chart showed a Labour win. I should have said the chart showed a disruptive, unexpected result – a Labour win or a Hung Parliament.

Here’s an explanation why:

The chart showed transiting Pluto moving through the 10th House making a conjunction with Natal Mercury  and Uranus making a soft conjunction with Britain’s Ascendant. Many of you reading this would read those words and say in a polite way – “WTF?”

I’ll try to explain.

Transiting Pluto

Tranist Pluto Britain Chart

Pluto takes about 247 years to orbit the Sun and spends about 20.6 years in each House. Transits from Pluto bring intense power struggles and transformation of an epic nature. They are considered very challenging with the promise of rebirth or renewal by going through a kind of death.

The 10th House – Corresponds to the president or prime minister, the chief executive, the government and the person representing the government as its head. This house rules the leadership and it reflects upon the nation’s status among other nations, its honour and recognition abroad, the nation’s influence in the world and world opinion of it. It rules the party in power.

Pluto is also conjunct Mercury.

Mercury signifies all forms of communication; newspapers, magazines, mail, speech, websites, blogs, all social media. Mercury governs intellectual trends and media events.

So putting the three together we have an incredibly intense transformation of the Government, a death and a rebirth of leadership. This same intense transformation is occurring in the media and communications in all its forms. This includes the influence of mainstream media. This transit shows that the Murdoch Press influence is dying in its influence and something else is taking its place – Social Media. The same transformation is happening with the peoples’ desire for a change in policy direction. Away from neoliberalism bull shit greed head policies to more socially inclusive policies.

Since Pluto stays in a House for just over 20 years and it is only half way through the house we can see that this transformation is only half way there. Indeed, Pluto will be conjunct the Sun in a few years which shows that there will be a complete change in Government and its policy direction. Perhaps this will be a throwing away of the old Thatcher neoliberalism policy stance and an embrace of a more human, inclusive democratic socialist policy stance. Yes, a Labour Government in full power.

If there is another election in 4 years time, 2021 the chart shows this is a real possibility.

 

Transiting Uranus

Tranist Uranus Britain Chart

Uranus takes about 84 years to orbit the Sun and spends about 7 years in each House. Transits from Uranus bring extreme disruption and changes to the houses and the planets it touches.

1st House – Corresponds to the country and its people, the masses, the outlook of the nation, its attitude as a unit, the strength and vitality of the country as a whole, national traits and habits. This house represents those being governed, the nation or group as a whole. The sign on the cusp and planets within represent outlook, image and characteristics. The First House concerns include domestic and interior affairs, general conditions, the health and well-being of the tax paying citizens, opinions, public consciousness and psychology of the masses.

Having Uranus in the first House signifies a disruption in the peoples’ attitude, consciousness and stance towards the current Government.

Both the 1st House and 10th House are Angular Houses and in astrology the four Angular Houses (1st, 7th, 10th and 4th) are considered to be the most sensitive points of a chart.

To have Pluto in the 10th House and Uranus in the 1st House means a big change was afoot.

For the above reasons I made my forecast that there will be a change of Government and thus a Labour win. However, currently it is a hung parliament and Conservatives may make Government with Northern Ireland DUP. This is why I said at the start I should have said the Election result will disrupt the status quo not necessarily a Labour win.


A Night in the Heart of Australia

April 6, 2017

This is an excerpt from a larger article “A Ganma Odyssey” in this blog https://dodona777.wordpress.com/2016/01/18/a-ganma-odyssey-2/

I will post other stories about my travels across Australia so look at this excerpt as if it’s a prologue of sorts.

===========================================================================

It’s been 25 years since I last visited Central Australia. Back then, the Sturt Highway was a two way dirt road all the way from Darwin to near Port Augusta. In 1972, words like revolution, liberation, justice, equality, freedom and peace, rolled off my tongue with a tender passion. Feeling the emptiness in the institutions, the knowledge factories and the general lack of soul in the world I hit the road. Back then I was searching for something. Nowadays, I’m still searching and it seems that the ” R ” word is the only one that doesn’t roll off my tongue so easily. Perhaps it should.
Twenty five years ago I found myself, with little more than nothing, in the heart of Australia. All I had was my canvas pack with a few clothes, a couple of books and some water in a bottle. I had no money. The previous three nights I had slept under the stars along the highway and during the day I prayed for a lift. I was two hours south of Alice heading for Adelaide when I was dropped off at Erldunda, near the turn off to Uluru (Ayers Rock) and Kata Tjuta (The Olgas). Across the road a petrol bowser stood as if on guard outside the general shop. A bus arrived and parked a few metres away from where I was standing. I watched the tourists get off. I hadn’t eaten a thing for over three days and I knew that the people getting off the bus would have something to eat. I approached a woman in a white hat as she stepped off the bus. Looking her in the eyes I said, “Excuse me, have you any food?”.

She looked at me with some pity and reached her hand into a brown paper bag pulling out a small green tomato. As she handed me the fruit I sensed everyone looking at me, from the bus driver to the little girl with her face pressed against the bus window. The white hat woman released the tomato into my hand and a ripple of disgust crossed her eyes and brow. I was dirty, I was homeless, a Dharma Bum now just a bum. I accepted the food and turned away from my shame. I noticed someone standing ahead of me in the distance waving, beckoning me to come over.

uluru-kata_tjuta1

Photo © Mark Moxon 1995-2017
All Rights Reserved

I had nothing to lose but everything to gain, holding the unripe tomato in my hand, I walked towards the stranger. As I got closer I could see white hair and a white beard on the face of an old black man. He wore trousers that were a little too big for him and a coat that was a little too small. He smiled and placed his hand on his belly whispering, what sounded like, “Hunger…hunger..” He took me by the arm and showed me to his home by the highway. It was a lean to humpy with a corrugated iron mulga branch roof. Some old flour bags were scattered on the dirt floor to sit on. He shared with me some milk arrowroot biscuit pieces and a powdered milk drink in a tin cup. He let me stay the night. The shop with the petrol bowser had switched its lights off. During the night, nothing much was said between us – the silences, with the occasional bark of a lone dog, said it all.

In the centre of Australia I saw that the dispossessed ones were the generous ones. We non – indigenous ones take and take while these people, the original ones give and give. Twenty five years later, in 1997, our government wants to stop the original people from reestablishing their culture and reconnecting with their land. Extinguishing the recently acquired native title rights is the equivalent of stealing what little these people have and giving this little to the rich, whether pastoralists, miners or just greedy transnational corporations. Will we the non – indigenous ones ever learn? So, 25 years later I was returning with a hunger so subtle that you’d miss it if you weren’t seeking it. It’s a hunger for something which may transform the hole in my being to the whole.


A Walk Through Sydney Botanic Gardens

April 3, 2017

Last week I walked through Sydney Botanic Gardens and took these photos with my phone camera. The day was overcast and I found myself drawn to textures and shapes.


Denial of Racism is Racism.

March 9, 2017

Below is a recent twitter thread talking about bullying and racism. I remembered an incident when I was a teenager walking with my mother from Redfern Station, Sydney to our place. Three Anglo guys stood in front of us and one yelled, “This is what YOU are!”  He rasped his throat and spat a huge glob of green mucus onto the footpath, just missing my mother’s shoe, “THIS! you big fat wogs!” he pointed to the glob. They laughed. My heart skipped a beat, my fists clenched by my side. My mother, looked forward and whispered in Greek, “Ignore them, keep walking.”

Ignore them? Smash the guy’s face into the ground, rub his nose into the green glob, and if there was any dog shit around, rub his face into that too. That’s what was ricocheting in my skull. I kept walking and saw my mother clutching her gold cross near her throat.

Attacking me with racist crap was all part of living in Redfern in those days. But attacking my mother in front of me was another thing. I knew these dicks, my gang knew them and we would get revenge. Our gang was wog only with two Aboriginal kids and we got back at them for the greeny and other crap they did to us. That’s another story.

Someone else told us about her father being hit with a molotov greeny through a car window. Others joined the thread.

Spitting Bogans 1

I then remembered what happened to me as a TAFE teacher and tweeted:

Twitter Insidious Racism

I promised I’d write about it – and here it is.

—————————————————

I’m not going to use peoples’ real names nor the real region and campus. I’m protecting the guilty because, who knows, they may have changed and feel some remorse. Also, I don’t want to tar a region and a college with the same racist brush because they weren’t all racists. Everything is true except the names.

It was 1988, the Bicentennial of the White Invasion. I was transferred from an inner Sydney TAFE college to a regional college beyond the Great Dividing Range. My friends knew me as an inner city rat because that’s all I lived. Migrants moved to the slums because it was cheap and close to the factory work in the 1950’s and 60’s. For me, anything beyond Liverpool was the Bush. Sure travel through the Bush but not live in it. Snippets of the film “Wake in Fright” bobbed in my mind. An Aussified Duelling Banjos soundtrack played in the background of what I thought it will be like in my new place.

I had no choice but to take this transfer as an English Literature / Communications teacher. My English as a Second Language qualifications were not going to be of any use there. We couldn’t afford the rent in inner Sydney on one wage for a house big enough for me, my wife and five kids.

Upon arrival at my new college I was told the whole region had been waiting for a suitably qualified teacher of English/Communications for over five years. Now they had one.

It was my first ever class in a country college, an initiation into the rural classroom. It was an English class in the Certificate of General Education, TAFE’s equivalent to the NSW School Certificate for those seeking a second chance.

After introducing myself and greeting the class of 15 students I wrote my name on the board. While my back was turned I heard some muttering. When I turned to face the class two students in their early twenties, boy and girl stood up. The guy says, “I’m not having a fucking wog teach me English!”

Before I could reply he and his girlfriend ran out of the class. The other students laughed. I told them I’d be back soon. I saw the two students run down the corridor in the direction of my Head Teacher’s office. I caught up with them as my Head Teacher, Mr Turnip, greeted them.

I said, “Right, you two are not allowed back in my class unless you apologise in front of the class.”

The girl started to cry and the guy stared at me. Mr Turnip put his arm around the girl’s shoulder and said,”Look, just go outside for a while. I’ll handle this.” They walked away with the guy turning his head in my direction smirking.

Mr Turnip asked what happened and I told him. He replied, “But you know Stavros, it IS a bit strange having someone like you teach English.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. From a distance, I  heard faint banjos playing. I replied, “Do you realise what you’re saying? I’m a fully qualified English teacher with an Honours degree in English Literature from Sydney University and a Diploma of Education from the same place. Why is it strange?” I hated telling him my quals and feeling defensive.

He said, “Well, because, you know, you’re not the usual type of person to teach English.”

“Be careful Mr Turnip because you are defending racial harassment.”

Denial of Racism is Racism

“Oh! Come off the grass. What those kids did was not racist. They can’t help being surprised that you are their English teacher.They’re disadvantaged and not used to seeing people like you. Show some compassion.” He folded his arms, ” You take those students back into your class.”

“Sure, they can return as long as they apologise in front of the whole class. They have to do this, otherwise I’ll be a laughing stock to the rest of the class and others will attack me with their racist bull shit.”

“No, you will take them back regardless of an apology. I’m directing you as your Head Teacher.”

“No, I refuse to accept them without an apology and I’m giving you notice I think this whole episode and your attitude is harassment.”

I turned away from him and returned to the class. I never saw the two students again.

I didn’t put in a formal complaint against Mr Turnip. It didn’t seem right in the first week of my teaching in a new college. Needless to say the vibes were tense.  My duties included teaching Higher School Certificate, Certificate of General Education English and Communications classes for vocational courses. There was such a need for my services I had plenty of overtime.

A department from Head Office, Sydney called me. They officiated over the Tertiary Preparation Certificate (TPC) – a course that prepares students for university study. They told me the Aboriginal community needed  a suitably qualified teacher to both teach and coordinate a pilot program. The local community had been waiting for years for this program. It had never been conducted before in NSW and it was now possible to happen because I had arrived. Wow! I grabbed this opportunity with my arms, legs, heart and brain. It was 1988, the Bicentennial of White Invasion – what an honour to implement this pilot program and to have an opportunity to teach an all Aboriginal class.

Yothu Yindi replaced Duelling Banjos in my heart.

Head Office warned me that there would be many obstacles to overcome to make it happen. As far as I was concerned, like the Blues Brothers, I was on a MISSION FROM GOD!

It’s another story for another time about the travails in getting this course off the ground and the joy of working in it.

Teaching and coordinating this course required me to travel 120 kms there and back to the small college twice a week. I heard there were other teachers who travelled even further to teach in colleges in rural sectors so my travelling was nothing.

One day, after returning from the special Aboriginal program I was called to the Head Teacher’s office for a meeting. Mr Turnip was replaced temporarily because he was promoted for a semester as Deputy Principal. My new acting Head Teacher, Ms String O’Pearls was also the Head Teacher of Adult Basic Education and she felt she could look after two sections for a semester.

There was no smile on her face when I entered the office and sat opposite her. Ms String O’Pearls asked me how I was finding working there. I told her it was OK and a bit of a culture shock for me. I also said I loved teaching the Tertiary Preparation Certificate even though I had to travel a fair distance to do so.

She didn’t smile, there was no spark of life – she just touched her pearls with the tips of her fingers. She said, “I’ve called you for this meeting because there’s been a complaint.”

“A complaint? About me?”

“Yes, well, not a specific complaint just a general statement that you don’t quite fit in here.”

I was aghast. “Don’t fit in here? What do you mean?” Yothu Yindi receded and I could hear the distant twang of banjos once again.

“People have been complaining about the way you talk and gesticulate. You’re pretty loud you know.” Her fingers played with the pearls around her neck.

My mind was somersaulting. As far as I was concerned everything seemed OK. I got on well with my students and I thought with my colleagues.

“What’s wrong with the way I talk?”

“You’re too loud, too passionate – everything is so big,” she said in her staid official tone.

“Wow! You’re kidding me! What about my gesticulations?”

“You can’t stop using your hands as you talk. People say if we tied your hands you wouldn’t be able to speak.”

“Well, it’s been a bit of a culture shock coming here. I’ve often wondered why no one ever smiles in this building. In fact you all may as well have a bag over your heads you’re so expressionless. How do the students handle you?”

“How dare you speak like that to me!”

“How dare you speak to me like this! Fuck! Unbelievable!”

The lines on her face contorted into a weird question mark with her mouth a tiny dot.

By now I couldn’t stop,

“Have you considered that maybe I’m suffering from a double whammy culture shock? You know, I’m the only non English speaking background person here among all of you uptight Anglos AND the shock of coming from inner Sydney – cosmopolitan – to this all white province – except for the Aboriginal people who live away from here. It’s a fucking shock to my system.”

“Oh, come on. You’re nothing special and I don’t appreciate your tone or language.”

“I am special, like we all are. You’re saying I don’t fit in. Well, so what? Have you heard of diversity? You say that staff don’t like the way I speak, act or BREATHE! I’m a Greek Aussie. This is how we are. YOU are a racist and you don’t even see it.”

“Careful! Don’t use terms like that. I’m telling you we don’t like the way you behave.”

“No, you’re telling me you don’t like the way I AM! You don’t acknowledge cultural differences – both ethnic and social – inner city Sydney to this place here.”

“You have been warned about your behaviour.”

I shook my head, looked down at my feet. Exasperated I said, ” You have been told that I consider this whole interview as racist in nature. In fact I’m going to use this experience, if I’m granted an interview for the position of Regional Multicultural Education Coordinator, in the Hunter as a classic instance of systemic racism perpetrated by staff who don’t even see it as racist.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“If granted an interview I will. I’m out of this place. Lucky for me I love my students – especially my TPC students. If I get that job it’ll be the only thing I’ll miss.”

I walked out of the office feeling flustered, upset, hurt and defiant. I wished with all my heart that I would get that job in the Hunter.

Well, I did get the job in the Hunter and I did use the incident with Ms String O’Pearls in my interview. I couldn’t help my self telling her how I used the incident in her office in the interview. I thanked her.

Lets talk about Racism


Swarm Mind and a Trip to the Bay

January 21, 2017

Where there is freedom, there is grace. Where there is freedom, devils play with angels. Swarm Mind chains them through the heart to the Swarm World.

Freedom is the result of not seeking a result. It is a means to an unknown end. It is a state imbued with grace. Swarm considerations expel the soul, and leave only husks of social being.

To be free means first and foremost to be true to one self. To be true to oneself one must give of one self. For it is in the giving that one manifests the growing bud of truth.

We must ascend to Heaven but our feet must touch the Earth. With our renewed energy, a gift from Above, we must allow the expansion of being to radiate into the Earth. This emanation is not from us but from Heaven. We, as men and women, are the medium through which Heaven meets Earth.

Through freedom we move both upwards and downwards , both inwards and outwards. Riding the Devil’s back we touch the sole of God’s feet.

How can I let life happen when I want to control it? The part in me that is the control freak, the “I” in me that seeks a result is the Swarm Mind that lives in me.

Freedom is seeing the Swarm Mind in Me.

swarm

Maybe seeing – vision is the wrong word to describe it. It is always a feeling, a flavour, a quality that no words can describe.

It is to feeling what vision is to sight. This feeling of freedom is Heart clarity.

To get away from the crowd and find some solitude I stay at a place right by the water at the Bay. You get to it by foot, air or boat. If you’re coming by boat, make sure that you can read the stars because modern navigational skills are useless here. Coming by foot doesn’t require star reading but it does require bare feet. Shoes will only get you to a swamp nearby.

Don’t ask me about the physics here. Location is important. The Global Positioning System here, at the Bay, is more astrological than astronomical. Pointing to the moon, looking in that direction, we miss the mark because the Bay is not in Euclidean space.

Psychics – physics – direction – up – down – in – out – close – far – positive – negative – are – all – in – a – continuum, like a multidimensional Mobius Strip. In this Bay, everything is connected to everything else. The higher dimensional frames are big and small enough to banish the Cartesian Spread.

Goethe said, “In nature we never see anything isolated, but everything in connection with something else which is before it, under it, beside it and over it.” He forgot to add “ inside It ” for this inside is the entry point, the eye of the needle to the world that lies beyond Swarm World.

Inside it, is inside everything on the beach far away from the Swarm World Buzz.

This means that North is the direction our own question leads us. The compass is our conscience. So, to arrive at this Bay we need our own question and an inner need to be free. Free from the Swarm within and without.

The Swarm Mind, in its crudest, buzzes around inside a Bell Jar whose proportions are dependent on the Bell Curve – Consensus Reality – 3 D World – the Vegetative Eye’s view at one standard deviation. To see outside this, is a constant struggle against the hypnotic movement and buzzing of our life’s busy – ness.

We need help to go beyond the Swarm World – a lot of help.

We need help to free ourselves from the Swarm Mind buzzing in our skulls – a lot of help.

We need help to beyond fear and greed – a lot of help.
We also need to function well in the Swarm World because our physical survival depends on it. So, we are in a paradoxical position. We need the physical, emotional and intellectual sustenance that comes from a world we all share. At the same time we must be able to separate from the noise and the Swarm Clouds that come between our vision and another world beyond the Bell Jar. This apparent contradiction is reconciled through its tension and our attention to our need.

I didn’t mention another world? Well, if we seek freedom from the Swarm and the power to see through the Bell Jar, we are accepting another world which can house seeing and freedom.

At the Bay, the 3 D World becomes a porous cube held in place within another 3 Dimensions. The 4th, 5th and 6th dimensions hold the 3 D World together. Swarm Mind is stuck to this 3 D Sugar Cube and does not see or want to go beyond its sweetness.

Swarm Mind’s global nervous system (that is in one of its foetal stages) of telecommunications has connected all continents and every square inch of the earth’s surface by geostationary satellites. Google is photographing every street and house being placed in a Matrix of their Global Map. GPS enabled mobile phones and in car mapping shows that we are now immersed in an electromagnetic mist of data. The Internet of Things includes us.

We walk on earth, we drink water, breathe air, feel the heat of the Sun – what is the experience of electrographic data ( telephone, TV, internet, GPS, satellite communications etc) ? We don’t eat it, drink it or breathe it and yet it is an element of our experience and it is permeating our being more everyday. What are the implications of our immersion in this “matter”, the closest we come to touching Swarm Mind?

Embedded in the Matrix of Swarm World one need never be alone, even if they are in space and location. Why bother getting lost finding the Bay or losing connection with the Swarm?

It’s comfortable here – TV, Internet, home and hearth, family, friends, companions and fellow workers. Why would I want to leave my comfort zone, the zone where I sleep and dream great soma dreams and eat ice cream beside a Merry – Go – Round? Not only that, the sex is great here in Swarm World. Is there sex in your beyond world? Tell me why should I even think about this? What purpose does it serve me to consider my existence as a tiny voice adding to the chorus swarm buzz ?

Leave me alone, with my house, car and beautiful partner, please don’t wake me, shake me or break me.

Yes, these concerns are paper weights on our consciousness. Our flat paper world, the Swarm World, dare not be blown away.

This is why you must need to go to the Bay. You cannot fake need. Either you need it, really need it, like needing to take a breath, needing to pee, needing it – real need, not a wimpy want because you can afford it.

At the Bay, residents need to be there. Some were ship wrecked here and can’t go back to where they came from. Whatever, everyone on the Bay needs to be there. From these spaces of necessity extraordinary and miraculous events appear to take place and some do take place.

No matter how you get here at the Bay, the vision that one sees at the Bay is not framed by Hollywood decrees. Maybe vision is the wrong word to describe the outlook from the Bay. It is always a feeling, a flavour, a quality that no words can describe.

It is to feeling what vision is to sight. Heart clarity that resonates on whatever is at hand.

Bay residents often ask this question: Is there life on Earth or are we just dreaming?


%d bloggers like this: