Neil Kramer on Alchemy Radio

http://alchemyradio.podomatic.com/entry/2013-10-01T04_16_12-07_00

Neil Kramer pops up regularly on Pale Green Vortex. Here is a link to a recent interview of his, which is a good intro to his work, containing as it does a clear exposition of some of his foundational ideas. Plus, of course, one or two interesting notions.

Detox, Detox

www.thenaturalrecoveryplan.com/articles/Oil-pulling-therapy.html

I have discussed elsewhere migraines (or, rather, my migraines - it's all about me....). The other debilitating health condition to have affected me over recent years is sinus problems. While less severe than migraines, they have nevertheless impacted significantly upon my everyday life. In the mornings, especially, the dull, energy-sapping pressure behind the eyes has been at times commonplace. With the accompanying discomfort of queasy feelings in the intestines, I have often headed into the day feeling like a member of the walking wounded.

For the past four or five years, my sinuses have become so sensitive that almost anything could set off problems. Cold, heat (especially dry artificial heat), wind; stress, fatigue, too much exercise, not enough exercise; alcohol, insufficient fluid intake; time in front of a computer or television screen; too much reading, writing, or brain work. I found myself trying to walk an almost impossible tightrope of lifestyle balance.

Problems might especially flare up in the late hours of the night/early hours of the morning, and I have gone through periods when I have viewed going to bed with apprehension. I would go to sleep feeling clear, but wake at four in the morning with that familiar sensation of something bashing against my eyeballs, the grunchy feeling in the stomach, and knowing that I would just have to sit it out. Nothing seemed to help: high pillows, low pillows, no pillows; feet up, feet down. In fact, nothing helped my sinuses much in general. 'Natural remedies' such as nasal sea-water spray, steam baths, a variety of plant oils to sniff or vaporise, could calm things down when symptoms were mild, but were completely ineffective in the face of a full-on sinus blast. The conventional G.P.'s armoury of medicines often doesn't agree with my body nowadays. A corticosteroid spray like Beconase is frequently prescribed. For a while this drug would clear up the sinus symptoms, but in a way that just doesn't feel right. If I paid attention to my nasal cavities, they would be crying 'No, no, no: don't do this to us, please.' Then the sinusitis would return anyway. I don't fancy spending the rest of my life sticking corticosteroids up my nostrils, so the Beconase is languishing in the bathroom cupboard, past its use-by date.

I have recently discovered something that really helps. Your local G.P. won't tell you about it, but there's nothing I can do about that. It's called oil-pulling/oil-swishing therapy. It's a method of everyday detox, consisting mainly of swilling edible oil around your mouth for 15 - 20 minutes once or twice a day. It's been part of Ayurvedic practice for ages, and is aimed at improving oral health - and health in general - by the removal of toxic material through the vehicle of the oil.

I am not going to write much about it here - info is readily available on the internet. But the article linked to above on Alison Adams's website is a god starting point. And check out Dr. Bruce Fife - Dr. Coconut, as he is sometimes called. Some people recommend particular oils - not surprisingly, Dr. Fife goes for coconut oil - but any, it seems, will do. Personally, I like cold-pressed olive oil and local cold-pressed rapeseed oil.

If you decide to give oil-pulling a go, you should read up on 'healing crisis' as well ('Am I dying or getting better?'). From my side, I have been swishing oil for three months now, and the effects have been brilliant; perversely, it's become one of my favourite moments in the day. Sinus problems haven't completely gone away, but my sinuses are in better shape than for several years, with a lot of the pressure removed. The oil pulling seems also to have taken some 'heavy psychic energy' out of my system. I intend to continue with the technique, and look forward to seeing if any other changes in health come about. Happy detoxing, everyone....

Photo: themiddlepath.com



         

Authoritarians and Libertarians

redicecreations.com/radio/2013/10/RIR-131004.php

A very interesting discussion, looking at some Pale Green Vortex-type topics from a fresh viewpoint. Well worth an hour of our precious human life, I'd say (or two hours, if you are a Red Ice member).

Sunny Isle

The Isle Of Skye,with its mountain range of the Cuillins, lies off the coast of western Scotland, and has the reputation for being a rainy, windy, misty place. These photos from a mountain walk last week illustrate that it is not always the case.

Migraines, Moons, and Mountains

                On Migraine Mountain

I wrote about my personal experience of migraines in a post on October 26th, 2010, 'The Bad Trip: Migraine'. Since then, I have continued to undergo their intermittent pain, albeit less frequently (I actually went for four months without an attack), and with generally less severity. When they have arrived, the migraines have tended to go on for a long time, however.

Migraines are, I conclude, little understood by the medical orthodoxy. This is evidenced by the large number of bewildered sufferers whose tortures can be readily accessed online, plus the equally bewildering profusion of causal theories and proposed palliatives and remedies that haunt the relevant websites. For me, there is, with little doubt, a supernatural element to the phenomenon. I once tracked the timing of my attacks against the phases of the moon. I discovered that the migraines have a strong tendency to cluster around the time of the full moon, to a degree that is statistically almost impossible to occur randomly. I also read on one website (which I unfortunately did not make a note of) that migraines typically occur thirteen times a year. This information was relayed without comment - but thirteen, annual cycles of the moon: any connection, maybe??? Some people find the apogee and perigee of the moon (respectively its furthest and closest proximity to the Earth) to be significant factors in the timing of their migraines.

The other bane of my physical life is chronic sinus problems. I may write more about this at some future time, but it started about five years ago. Since it is a condition that is focused around the same areas of the body and its energy systems as migraine - the brow/temple region and the intestines - it is reasonable to consider that both migraine and sinusitis manifest a similar problem. At this point, however, you leave the mainstream medical profession well and truly behind......

A few weeks ago I set off from home with the intention of climbing a fairly large mountain in western Scotland. I awoke to that familiar pressure around the brow and behind the eyes which is characteristic of sinus disturbance. Such a common experience was insufficient to cause me any real concern, however. It was only when I was on the coach and well on my way that the pain began to intensify and to migrate to the right side of my head. Accompanying this was a growing nausea, and it began to dawn on me that this was not simply sinusitis, but impending migraine.

It is one of the nightmares of a migraine person: to be stuck on some form of transport far from home with excruciating pains in the head and the uncontrollable urge to vomit viciously all over everybody and everything. Being stranded while in the throes of a migraine is one of the worst things around. What was I going to do? I could ask the driver to let me off at the next stop and somehow make my way home. I could ask him to take me on further than my intended destination, to at least a village where I might be able to find some respite. As it was, I decided to breathe deeply, try to relax, and continue with my original plan.

I stumbled off the bus in the middle of nowhere. To the east runs a long loch, and to the west the road snakes down a glen cut like a gash into the hills. Lines of steep-sided mountains stretch north and southwards as far as the eye can see. I was standing outside the only habitation for miles - literally - a lonely hotel with a solitary petrol pump. In my enfeebled condition, the mountain I originally intended to climb had taken on Himalayan proportions. Out of the question. Yet I felt strangely happy to be among the mountains with a skull about to split and intestines threatening to evacuate across the peat and heather. I would not go to the big mountain, but instead opt for a small mountain close at hand. I could take my time, walk as much or as little as I wished, and generally follow my fancy.

Am Bathach is the name of the little mountain, the one normally reserved for a half day out. I began to climb, very slowly, stopping for long and frequent rests, surveying the gradually unfolding landscape from a large variety of rocky vantage points. Halfway up the southern brow of Am Bathach I succumbed to some deep retching, following which I felt slightly better. Continuing with this stop - start routine, I eventually reached the summit ridge, where I was confronted by its three peaks. Normally, they present themselves as mere protuberances on the ridge, but on this day they manifested as enormous walls of mountain to be climbed. I lay down to rest in the silence of the middle peak. Suddenly I was jarred into wakefulness by a racket above me. A bird of prey - my rudimentary knowledge of wildlife suggests it was a buzzard - was hovering close to the ground,  but was being harassed by three noisy crows, which followed closely in its wake as it swooped then hung in the air, apparently trying to get close to the ground. The persistence of the crows paid off, and the buzzard eventually swung off across the valley and into the distance. The drama over, I closed my eyes again and drifted into sleep.

The descent off the far end of Am Bathach is slightly steep, over heather and slippery peat. As I was coming down, it occurred to me that, despite my physical frailty, I did not feel the slightest bit worried or intimidated. In fact I had felt fully confident during the entire little adventure. I knew myself  - my abilities and limitations - and had made appropriate decisions for the day. I had never been be-migrained in the hills before, but I was very much at home here. I respected the mountains, and they lent their support to me. My  own love of the wild would be reciprocated, provided I acted appropriately and with common sense. Going to the mountains was what I did.

I arrived back outside the hotel with an hour to spare. I could have taken refuge inside. Instead, I lay down on a rock, closed my eyes again, and felt the caress of the wind on my face. It had been a mild migraine by my standards, allowing me the unique opportunity to spend a day of ill-health outdoors among the mountains. I felt curiously satisfied.

                  

Windfarms: Postscript in Blood

                                     Ed Davey salutes the masses

There may be those who consider me a little harsh on the supporters of windfarms. I could possibly do with a bit more understanding of their position; I could moderate my words and my judgment. Nothing of the sort. I have, in fact, been generous and charitable in the extreme in what I have written. The reality is worse than anything my ability with language can conjure up.

Among the worst offenders are those members of the Liberal Democrat party in Britain. These guys should get themselves a dictionary: it is difficult to find a bunch of people less democratic and liberal than these. Actually, in the last general election hardly anybody voted for them. Nevertheless, in the brave-new-world coalition of today they are in the driving seat for trashing vast areas of countryside with industrial junk, not to mention condemning lots of older folk to an early grave thanks to the consequent high energy prices of their windfarms policy.

Current Windfarm Fuhrer-Messiah is Lib Dem Ed Davey, successor to nice Lib Dem man Chris Huhne. The nonsense that issues from this man's mouth is jaw-dropping. His department is currently engaged in blocking reports on the effects of windfarms on property prices and on rural economies generally. Very liberal and democratic indeed. Of course, it is no coincidence that a guy like him is head of energy ('Coincidence' is a word we like to throw around to cover up a connection which we are either genuinely unconscious of, or which we do not want to face up to). It's all engineered by Cameron, but I'll leave you to work that one out.

A personal observation. I have no proof, but this is what I see...... Scottish Highland people, especially the rural ones, generally like to stay put. Selling a house here is a far slower process than it is likely to be in London. Yet I have passed through a number of small communities where a surprising number of 'For Sale' notices have been on display. These have all been near windfarms, or places with windfarm proposals around. Coincidence? No: 'coincidence' is a word.......etc etc. One village, in particular, not far from Loch Ness, seems awash with such notices. There is a windfarm already up the valley from the settlement, with another proposal adjacent, and several others in fair proximity. The area is also now crossed by the Beauly-Denny transmission line, hundreds of miles of giant pylons under construction which march across the hills. Their erection has meant considerable areas of forest being cleared and turned into unsightly industrial sites without a thought for their appearance. Of course, personal sacrifice has to be made in the name of the greater general good; tough luck on the local residents. 'The greater good' argument is another weapon wielded by the tyrannical. I have been there myself. It is not nice.

The Highland Clearances is one episode in Scottish history that is correctly viewed with shame. Yet the fallout from the saturation bombing by windfarms is similar. In fact, the closer you look, the more remarkable the parallels turn out to be. You see, the Empire maintains its control through a small number of strategies repeated time and time again. Deja vu.

        

A Warrior's Greatest Love, And Its Great Betrayal

It's the end of the line. After a decade and three best-selling titles, the time has come for a final dramatic farewell. Along with Pablito, another apprentice, Carlos Castaneda stands on the northern edge of the mesa, a flat-topped mountain, somewhere in Mexico. There, too, are Don Juan and Don Genaro, Castaneda's teacher and benefactor respectively. The light is fading; twilight, the door to the unknown, is fast approaching. The time for the jump. The jump into the abyss.

Pablito and Carlos are told to say goodbye to all those present and everyone else they are leaving behind. They might return to fulfil their earthly task, or they might not, instead merging finally and completely with the nagual, the infinite.

A wave of sadness and loneliness overcomes Castaneda. 'It's almost time for us to disband....' says Genaro.'But before we go our separate ways, I must tell you one last thing. I am going to disclose to you a warrior's secret.' He recalls Castaneda once saying that the life of a warrior was cold and lonely and devoid of feelings.  This cannot be so, iterates Genaro, because his life is based on his affection, his devotion, his dedication to his beloved. At this, Genaro makes a series of 'dazzling magical moves' that Castaneda perceives as a luminous ball 'sliding on something like the floor of an ice skating rink with a thousand lights shining on it.'

The voice of Don Juan illuminates: Don Genaro's love is the world, and this is his way of embracing the Earth. The Earth knows that Don Genaro loves it: hence his life is filled to the brim. 'Genaro roams on the paths of his love and, wherever he is, he is complete.' 'Only if one loves this Earth with unbending passion can one release ones sadness' he continues. 'A warrior is always joyful because his love is unalterable and his beloved, the Earth, embraces him and bestows upon him inconceivable gifts.'

The barking of a dog cuts the silence. This barking, Don Juan goes on to explain, is the saddest thing one can hear. 'That barking, and the loneliness it creates, speaks of the feelings of men. Men for whom an entire life was like one Sunday afternoon, an afternoon which was not altogether miserable, but rather hot and dull and uncomfortable. They sweated and fussed a great deal. They didn't know where to go, or what to do. That afternoon left them only with the memory of petty annoyances and tedium, and then suddenly it was over; it was already night.'

For Castaneda this, a warrior's greatest love, is the final teaching, the one that puts everything else in context. And it is written about in the final pages of 'Tales of Power' with a force, a focus, and a passion, that is, to my mind, unequalled in the work of Castaneda. It is real Earth mysticism, direct contact and communication with Gaia, which arguably represents the highest aspirations a human being can have.

Today, this sacred pathway has been twisted and distorted beyond recognition, hijacked by the oligarchs and other emissaries of control over our species. Love of the Earth has been debased into global warming panic, carbon emission guilt, the desecration of the beautiful face of the Earth with windfarms that benefit only the rich and power-hungry, and a general hatred of humanity for its sins. A message both poisonous and ludicrous, thrust upon a gullible public desperate for something to believe in, something to save their hideous souls.

In Britain we have the Camerons, the Ed Daveys, the Huhnes; the Salmonds and Fergus Ewings in Scotland; the shameless opportunists of Scottish Renewables and Renewables UK; the fanatical ideologues in Greenpeace, Friends of the Earth, and WWF. Blind ideology and Machiavellian opportunism combine in varying proportions in an appeal to people's better nature. Rationally, it doesn't have a leg to stand on. Just as one example, even were human-made warming a perilous reality, whatever happens on these small islands of Britain would be irrelevant, given its tiny contribution to planetary emissions overall. More and more people are seeing through these vicious lies, but still they hold, through ignorance, fear, and guilt, far too many people in their thrall.

In truth, the Green mind control programme delivers a double whammy; it is probably the most successful in business at the moment. Increasing numbers of people are becoming suspicious of the 'Mohammed Dave has an enormous armoury of massively destructive weapons in a little country far from here and he's got them all pointed at his next-door neighbour/Kensington High Street (delete as appropriate)' routine. Yet those very same people will swallow whole the 'climate change - panic - just do as we say and everything will be alright' fabrication. It's the programme that catches nice people, people who are concerned. Some generally aware 'psychedelic people' are among those who have fallen for the scam. Take Graham Hancock and Ralph Metzner: both people for whom I have a goodly store of respect, and who carry around a bucketload of wisdom with them. Yet look at their blogs and websites, and they are littered with stuff about human-induced climate catastrophe, draconian low carbon strategies, etc. If we are going to talk low carbon technology, let's at least do it properly. Forget wind turbines and everything else that's been thrown at us thus far. Put serious time and energy into looking at the plethora of low- and free- energy devices that are popping up nowadays (with predictably zero coverage in the mainstream).

I haven't written much about windfarms recently. That doesn't mean they have gone away. It's just that I have no intention of turning into a full-time campaigner. At the end of the day, moving the pieces around on the chessboard isn't a solution. The real game is off the chessboard altogether. As it happens, my cursory glances at the 'news' show how the extent of the windfarm lie is being exposed on a daily basis. Yet still this programme bulldozes its way through regardless, attempting to worm its slimy way into every nook and cranny of sacred earth beauty. And, by the way, the Earth appears to be cooling at the moment, and Arctic ice is back with a vengeance.

Image: truth frequency