There are times when I feel at one with, identified with, the rest of the human species. Here we are, all together. A certain empathy, an at-oneness, inevitably spills out from this feeling.
And there are other times, when I feel that the parabolas of my life and that of the majority of other folk on this planet are quite different. I look at people, in the street or on a screen, and sense that what I am doing with my life is really a bit different, to the extent that we could almost be different types of being. It is in moments like these that I remember my tribe.
My tribe comprises a motley bunch. Some don't even know of the existence of some of the others. They would certainly not all get on very well together if I convened a gathering of the tribe. My tribe consists of consciousness people, Buddhist people, former Buddhist people, psychedelic people, blog people, exploration-of-life people, various other shades of people; some of the tribe I have contact with on a regular basis, some infrequently. Some of my tribe I have never met, never shall, and some don't even know of my existence. Some are alive, some are dead. But what I have in common with all the other members of my self-created tribe is a kind of mutual recognition, a certain sense of being kindred spirits, even if in a sometimes vague, diffuse, undefined and indefinable way. We have a mutual respect, an intuitive understanding, ready to offer support should it be needed. In some ways my tribe is far from ideal: it's a reflection of the modern world, in that much of it functions without being face-to-face. It is a by-product of the computer age and of the global village. However, my main purpose here is not to analyse my own life......
There are, you see, other tribes. I am especially concerned here with the tribe which is formed by 'Them'. 'They', in case it's not clear, have turned up over the years on Pale Green Vortex under a variety of names, or subsumed under a number of different ideas. Control System, Global Elite, an aspect of 'the Construct'; Empire, Establishment, among others. As with my tribe, not all will necessarily see eye-to-eye. But they will recognise one another instinctively, as those with a similar version of reality. They will bear allegiance to one another despite surface differences, and appear to have a collective solidarity which transcends class, race, gender, and everything else.
One distinctive feature of this particular tribe is its organisation. As we might expect if we examine the nature of mind of those tribe members, the group is extremely and rigidly hierarchical. Power and domination are its hallmarks. On the lower rungs of its ladder we find the most visible manifestations of its existence: characters like politicians, very public, the fall guys and girls, the foot soldiers. As we ascend the hierarchy, it becomes more vapid, mysterious, and outrageous, to the ordinary mind.
Neil Kramer's version of the different layers of the Control System is enumerated in his book 'The Unfoldment' from 2012. I present it as illustration. It goes as follows, from bottom up: a) Enforcement (military, police etc): b) Government ('Superficial policy administration'); c) Realpolitik (practical power-based politics); d) Think Tanks, formulated by globalist institutions; e) Esoteric groups, based on sequestered sacred knowledge; f) Ultra-terrestrials.
I am not presently concerned with examining the details of Neil's map of control, but with getting across the overall principle. The further up you go, the weirder it may seem to many folk. Nevertheless, I think the general notion is clear and, with a little honest study, its overall existence is difficult to deny.
A necessary feature of this extended, telescoped tribe, is how it runs like a criminal organisation (hardly surprising, that). It is strictly hierarchical, and has a safety mechanism of limited vertical knowledge built in to protect its overall integrity. When I read about the Operation Julie LSD alchemists and distributors of the 1970s, I was struck by how they organised themselves. Forced by repressive government legislation into acting clandestinely, they were organised so that any one person in the hierarchy of production and distribution knew only one or two folk from the level above, and a few folk from the level below. For example, if you were a local dealer, you knew your customers and you knew the person who sold on the acid to you; but that was it. Who was actually producing the microdots was as much a mystery to you as it was to your granddad.
So the Control System functions similarly. Politicians will have no idea of the more esoteric aspects of the system which they are entrusted to administer. People giving the impression of being important chiefs are in effect unwitting puppets, no more. They have no more idea of their real position than does our fabled granddad. And this is one of the vital elements to the entire thing running.
Part Two
Forty-five years ago, you would have found me studying geography at one of the world's most apparently prestigious universities. This was generally a pointless affair, but the subject at least had its precedents. I was fascinated by maps from an early age - and by the globe, which turned up at home one year, possibly courtesy of Father Christmas. I would browse the pages of my atlas, perusing places of the highest exoticism. And at the time, anywhere outside south-east England came dripping in mystery, romance, adventure, so there was plenty of room for the great unknown.
The colours in which these many faraway places were depicted depended largely upon their imperial or colonial affiliations, past or present (this was the time when many European empires were being broken up, and 'independence' granted to the subject nations). French colonies were green, Spanish yellow. This was the colour of most South America, with the exception of Brazil, which was orange for formerly Portuguese territory. Then there was the Dutch (purple? I can't remember), plus little bits of the old Italian endeavours in north Africa. The ones to take most notice of, though, were the areas of the globe coloured in light pink. These were all once part of the British Empire, and covered a considerable portion of the globe: India, Canada, Australia, big places.
There was something about the bits of the globe painted in pink. Nobody actually told you directly, but somehow the truth was communicated - through tone of voice, maybe, the occasional telling gesture, the knowing smile. The pink bits were a bit different, and, well, a bit better. The business of empire was not a pretty one, but the British Empire was the best. Less brutal than the French and the Spanish, more heroic than the Italian. It was about, not simply domination and plunder: it was about inculcating more civilised attitudes. It embodied a culture which, though far from perfect, was an entirely different matter to whatever was exported from the other European nations. It was, in a nutshell, superior. And you grew up imbibing this sense of being just a little better, a little more fair, decent, honest, than the rest of the planet. Your conscious attitude had little say in the matter - this is vital to understand for the discussion. Just as my father, a professed atheist for much of his life, embodied many characteristics that are typically puritan/protestant, so did the anarchist, countercultural young me walk around with an element of this 'a bit better' quality emanating from every pore of my being.
I just assumed that everybody, across the face of the earth, would grow up with this same 'rightness and betterness' about where they came from. It would be naturally embodied in all cultures, all races, all nationalities. It was with surprise and fascination, therefore, that I began to get to know more deeply my wife-to-be and some of her family and friends.
My girlfriend, as she was at the time, hailed from Colombia in South America. Colombians, I discovered, are typically intensely patriotic, with the most macho of Colombian males liable to burst into tears if you say 'Viva Colombia' in front of his face. Yet they seemed to lack entirely that sense of national self-confidence, and the related yet not identical 'we are better than anybody else', attitudes which went with being English. They remained in awe of the west, of the USA, and even their conquerors. If anything, they felt inferior.
It hit home hardest when a football match was on. Spain was playing against.... Italy, I think. Many Colombians were actually supporting the Spanish team. To me, this was incredible. The abused still supporting the abusers, those who came and destroyed their cultures, took their women, burnt their villages, their sacred places. It was as if an Australian supported the English cricket team; or a Glaswegian cheered on the English football team playing against France. It just wouldn't happen. Thus, I realised, not all nations have the same sense of self-confidence, international assertiveness, sense of being right. On the world stage, Colombians remain submissive.
The stories we are told, the mythology, if you like, mould our attitude. The results are not conscious, and it matters not whether the contents of the mythology are literally, factually, true or not. The vital element is the myth, the story, itself. This is all that matters.
Part Three
Let us imagine, then, another group of people on this planet. Another racial and cultural tribe, if you will. In common with the English (not so much, you note, the Scots), they have this sense of being good, being right, being a bit better than the rest. But in this case, not only are they the better people, they are chosen. Not only have they been chosen, but they have been chosen by God, no less. Imagine what it is to be chosen by God. Again, conscious attitudes and beliefs have little to do with it: unless the assumption has been fully and courageously confronted, it will remain unconsciously influencing everything in your life, regardless of political, philosophical, cultural, or religious affiliation.
The mythology of these people is not that simple, however. Despite being God's favourites, they have had a rough time of it. For centuries, millenia even, they have wandered the face of the Earth homeless, rootless. And during the course of this unhappy process they have been treated badly: shoved around, kicked about; used, misused, abused. Only recently have they finally touched base in a place that they can call home. This they guard jealously, adopting whatever strategy they feel necessary to protect their spot on Earth. Though, strangely, many of them, rather than rushing home and settling down quietly, have opted to stay away, doing their business in every part of the globe.
So, to invoke a little amateur developmental psychology (and always be cautious of developmental psychology), let us imagine the effects that such a mythology may have. The sense of being special, unique, in the eyes of God will surely imbue many members of this tribe with a self-belief, a self-confidence, second to none. In addition, the hard times, the victimisation, prominent in their mythology will only make them more determined to succeeed, endow them with a certain 'steel' in their mentality. They will be madly protective of their interests, and not a little paranoid about how anybody not in their tribe behaves towards them.
A cursory glance around the world reveals that, yes indeed, many of these predicted characteristics have come to pass. Despite comprising a teenie-weenie percentage of people on the planet, this tribe has contributed many excellent and outstanding people in the world of culture, for example. Music and film, in particular, are liberally-populated by members of this particular tribe. They excel in many areas of life. At the same time, should we inspect even briefly the make-up and activities of 'Them', our tribe-of-tribes, we find a goodly proportion of these to also be members of, or closely connected with, our tribe of chosen ones. Top figures in finance, for example, wielding enormous influence over world affairs. Senior statesmen, along with the occasional woman, ditto. In the USA, for example, a little delving reveals how many of the people behind the scenes pulling the strings of the puppet political leaders hail from our group of chosen ones. Along with the excellence of their musicians and film directors, they serve up their fair share of participants in nefarious activities. People wielding huge influence in human affairs, and often of a very dodgy kind.
Furthermore, any cognisance of the alternative media inevitably throws up a plethora of news and theories about the part our chosen ones play in the less savoury aspects of human affairs. It is certainly true that there is a remarkable preponderance of chosen tribe members in positions of political, economic, and cultural power across the face of the globe, especially given their small overall population (about 6 million in their homeland, roughly 15 million globally). Some detractors claim that it is all part of a plan to realise their status as the special ones of God. Others point out how international instability (because instability rather than concord appears the hallmark of much of their activity), particularly in the regions surrounding their homeland, is to their tribal advantage: weakening the opposition, a strategy rooted in their insecurity and paranoia.
There are undoubted fishy elements to the situation. One is how some of the tribe's leading academics and politicians seem highly enthusiastic about 'multiculturalism' in Europe, aka the dilution of indigenous European cultures, while maintaining a strict 'thou shalt not enter' policy regarding their own homeland. This comes as an affront to that exaggerated sense of fairness and decency which is the characteristic of western European peoples. There is also the taboo against any questioning of the tribe of chosen ones, its attitudes, mythology, and history. In some European countries it is illegal to even question any details of the history which fuels and identifies these people. It is regarded as a particularly cheap and nasty form of racism, while it is nothing of the sort. It is simply the exercise of freedom of thought and speech. Any criticism will be met by recourse to the chosen ones' mythology of persecution and victimhood, especially that which is dated around 75 years ago. It provides our tribe of chosen ones with an especially potent weapon to defuse any trouble in a rather influential nation in central Europe above all, a place that remains a sucker for manipulation and blackmail because of its own dark role in the chosen ones' mythology.
Conclusion
My own appetite for parapolitical analysis is very small at the moment. I am definitely no expert. I will offer topics and ideas for the reader's consideration and personal research, little more. It seems important to be aware of some of the deeper realities underlying the human world we inhabit: this is one aspect of gnosis, if you like, not having the wool pulled over your eyes, not being blinded by lies and bullshit that are churned out to help keep us separate from our own deeper natures. Recognising the interface of 'inner work' with manifestation in the outer world, if you like, and how the one reflects the other.
I am not, however, interested in trying to point a finger, laying the blame for the woes of the world on a particular person or group of people. It is natural for us to want to find the root cause, and it would be convenient to find a simple object we could wag our accusing finger at. But as I've written before, I don't think it really works like that. On a more metaphysical level, we are all involved in a largely unconscious collusion based around a victim - perpetrator fantasy. I am involved in this nasty nonsense because part of me is congruent with it; such is the unappetising reality. Rather than simply scratch the sore, it behoves us to focus attention on our individual experience, our own consciousness: how it, maybe, continues to fuel the fire of empire. This we can take responsibility for, and is an act which will have a ripple effect on everything. Changing this is the Holy Grail, the real game changer.
