I can see it now. I've just died. God is there to greet me. A glint comes into his eye as he puts the question: "So how did you like your little sojourn in the fascist state?"
To begin with I am perplexed, and go for my 'Dictionary of the Bardo' for assistance. The first definition says something about aggressive nationalism. No, that can't be it; if anything, it was the opposite, with nation states struggling for survival against other powers. Then I get it. 'Severe regimentation. Forcible suppression of opposition. Brutal dictatorial control.'
"It was completely antithetical to any higher aspirations of individual human beings" I reply. "Dumbing down to the lowest level through fear. A total nightmare, the worst thing. At the same time, it propelled many people to wake up a bit, and accelerated that process for those who were already on that road. It was the biggest paradox really."
God gives a wicked wink; did you know that God can be wicked? "Never forget that most valuable lesson" he says, as my not-yet fully-realised consciousness hurtles off for another rollercoaster ride with the good, the bad, and the very messy.
Fascist state. Very precise instructions on what we can do and what we cannot do. Obey or else, says the police chief. We might be doing this for months, states the medical adviser. Carry on saying that and we'll chuck you in jail, says the freedom-lover from Ofcom. Some of them really revel in it, don't they? It's a dream come true, all with the backing of the mediocrities of government. 'Who are these people?' is the question it is fitting to ask. Who do they think they are, really? It's all in the name of protecting us. Who are they kidding?
It's when we get to the supermarket that it really hits home. At least more people are a bit more relaxed about social distancing now, realising it's two metres, not two miles. Not so many people jumping into the nearest hedge to avoid us on the walk to the shop. In the supermarket, too, the majority are reasonably at ease, though there are still some wielding trolleys in a state of barely-controlled panic. So shot through with fear are they, that they may never go near another human being until the day they die.
The supermarket workers are largely impressive. It must be horrible working in such stressful conditions, but most go about their jobs pretty normally, natural and friendly. They are mainly young, and the youthful seem to take it all in their stride better than many of their elders. The girl at the check-out is handed cash - yes, cash - by the guy in front of me. She smiles at him, and takes it without flinching.
Despite the feeling that I've been dropped into 1960s East Germany except with the shelves better stocked, I'm not doing badly until I fall foul of the arrows. I decide to make a quick and minor diversion to the yogurts. "You can't come up here! You must follow the arrows! Look!" an older employee, a female who's decided to earn her keep, shrieks at me.
The urge arises, momentarily almost irresistible, to scream extremely loud, throw potatoes all over the place, skittle yogurts all over the floor, and stomp out. But I don't. It would achieve nothing, really.
Part Two
Lockdown may or may not be justified, or maybe be partly so. What is without doubt not justifiable is its partner in the social engineering aspect of the whole shenanigan, which is censorship. The lockdown on the mind has been given cause to accelerate by the corona v. thing, which is one condition giving rise to the more 'conspiratorial' musings about the whole scene.
During times of war, government has deemed fit to introduce Ministry of Information, or similar. They think this is necessary to aid the war effort. Corona v. is being treated as a war by some, and social media, Ofcom, and the like have taken it on themselves to become the de facto global ministry of information. Funny how it all fits together.
The problem is that it's not that simple any more. It's not just a case of deleting a David Icke interview from YouTube, or telling people they can't talk about 6H (as we now call it, to avoid any social media robot coming along and wiping out all our work). The cat's out of the bag. The signal is up and out.
Last week we had a visit from the window cleaner. I was quite surprised. "Working?" my wife exclaimed. "Call the police. Arrest him!" And I thought my sense of humour was a bit dark....
Anyhow, it transpires that window cleaners are among the chosen few who are permitted to work. But the words the window cleaner uttered as he headed off with ladder on his shoulder were "The virus is man-made. Comes out of a laboratory."
And I received an email from an old friend who works in 'alternative health and nutrition' but is not exactly a conspiracy fiend. All sorts of ideas are around, she informed me, about labs in Wuhan, and about vaccines with microchips hidden inside them.
The disbelief in the lying mainstream media, or untrustworthy mainstream, is no longer confined to a few weirdos, who can be dismissed as paranoid conspiracy theorists. As its credibility sinks, so does awareness among increasing numbers of people rise. This is happy news indeed. And how it's going to play out in the days, months, and years to come is anybody's guess.
Part Three
I've been saying it for years: reliance by 'the alternative' on the Internet Giants is a huge mistake. It's a lesson that was learnt, then promptly forgotten, by the 1970s counter-culture. If you want to create that alternative, it needs to be thoroughgoing, comprehensive. Otherwise you are weak, vulnerable, to Big Brother biting back whenever he chooses to do so. And this is exactly what has been happening over recent years in the case of Silly Con Valley's social media networks and platforms, censoring and deleting increasingly at will.
Silly Con is enormous multinational business. It wields tremendous power, and in essence is no different from Big Pharma, Big Energy, and the others. It will not behave any better; names like Gates and Zuckerberg don't feature highly on the Bodhisattva list.
So there's no a lot of point in complaining too much when Alex Jones, David Icke, and the evergrowing list, get their stuff chucked off. When Pale G.V. first started up ten years ago I never used YouTube or any of them. I visited the individual websites - Neil Kramer, Shamanic Freedom, John Lash in those days - and it worked fine. I am reverting to this approach more again now.
So 'the alternative' is suffering from not developing its own media networks and platforms sufficiently. Naive, really. And I am no exception, sitting here with Mr Google, who could wipe me off with one click of a button. And while Pale G.V. is less high profile than Tommy Robinson, it's safe to say that nobody is safe.
Maybe there'll be a positive move after all this, forcing the alternative to use its own resources more, and therefore gaining strength. There may be a temporary downturn in viewers, but not a huge problem in the bigger picture. The high strangeness of today's world has a driving dynamic towards higher consciousness inbuilt.
In time, YouTube will become like the BBC, an organ for orthodoxy: boring, predictable, fighting desperately for survival.
Actually, dependence on the internet in itself is extremely naïve and silly. Again, I am little different from others. Much of my life is on the internet. My financial life, such as it is, appears as figures on a computer screen. Is that wise? The corona v. situation demonstrates how quickly and easily authority can ramp up its nefarious activities if it so wishes. And in terms of sources of information, it's not a bad idea to have a few of those old-fashioned books around, just in case.
The real solution is leaving behind dependence on the ways of three-dimensional life altogether. Once a certain point is reached, this seems less far-fetched and faraway than it once did. And the current corona v. situation hurtles us in the direction of what is a possibility, at least.
Part Four
Lockdown is intended, apparently, to especially be helping and protecting the old, the weak, the ill, the vulnerable. Let me tell you what lockdown does to the old, the weak, the sick, and the vulnerable.
To the fragile and dying, lockdown denies them the possibility of a satisfying end to their life. It prevents them from coming full circle in this time on Earth, on achieving completion in this lifetime.
Lockdown prevents that final trip to the hills, or to the beach, to watch the waves beating on the shore one more time, and to muse, to reflect, to wonder in awe. Or that little journey around the haunts of youth, bringing back buried memories, which suddenly make sense, fit together.
There are no more visits to town for lunch with those other frail, nearly-finished friends. Family reunions are forbidden; no final cuddles with the grandkids.
You can't do it. You can't. Instead, you are to stay indoors, in those darkened walls, to fade away in solitary misery, and in stress, in abject fear of the virus.
Cruelty, brutality, heartlessness, are being dished out in big helpings today. All in the name of kindness, of protecting the old, the sick, the helpless. There is this aspect, and it is terrible.
And if you've still got any fuel left in the tank - an interview with the nearly-dead Ian R. Crane in hospital last Friday. Anyone still thinking the coronavirus situation is all about loving your neighbour, pour a stiff whisky and take a listen.
21stcenturywire.com/2020/04/11/an-important-message-from-ian-r-crane/
Ian is another of those who first educated me about a decade ago. I don't go along with everything, but he is one of the good guys, and has dedicated his life to bettering life on planet Earth. I offer my humble thanks to him. Apparently he has come through the operation. Wishing you all the best, Ian.
Images: Albion by Blake; Two of Michelangelo's Captives struggling towards freedom
