by Jon Rappoport
July 15, 2021
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December 2, 2080, closed room in Houston.
An astronaut is back from a three-month voyage in space. He talks to the NASA men at the table.
“…See it, wasn’t just a planet. It was somewhere that made no sense at all. There were…things there, but I couldn’t identify them. I couldn’t put names to them. I thought it might be a puzzle. A game. So I just started walking. I don’t know how long I walked. You tell me I’ve been away for three months. All right. I can’t put any sort of time stamp on it. One thought came in on me, over and over again. I was in a different universe. And if it was organized, I couldn’t find the pattern. So for a very long time I rejected the whole place, the whole setup. That was my main experience. Who would ever imagine being in a locale where things were so strange he couldn’t find a single word to convey them to anyone else? And then, finally, I remembered something from years ago. A play being performed by crazy actors. They spoke in a language no one had ever heard of. It went on for almost an hour. I felt very angry. A few minutes before the end, I was hit by lightning. I suddenly understood everything they were saying. I don’t know how. And I couldn’t translate it back into English. I just understood. It was a one-time experience. And that was what it was like, being in that universe. When I remembered this, I felt a shift. I knew where I was. I knew what was going on. I knew that universe. But I can’t sit here and tell you what it was. That seems impossible to you. But it’s true. I’m stymied. One thing I can say. Everything I once thought I knew about beauty…that’s gone out the window. I’ve realized there were certain rules embedded in my mind. Maybe principles. Principles of harmony, symmetry, balance. Organization. I was living according to those rules or principles all my life, in all my choices, and now they’re gone. They don’t exist anymore. When they evaporated, I was able to understand what that universe was. All at once. On the trip home, I started to draw. You’ve seen my work. You’ve looked at it, and you wonder whether you can use it to decipher what happened to me. But you can’t. I was just inventing out of a vacuum. A wonderful vacuum. I was working from nothing, a void. I’m not asking you to understand it. I don’t feel you need to. I just know I stumbled across something. I never wanted it or looked for it. You’ve told me the drawings mean nothing to you. That’s fine. I didn’t do them for you. All the vast telemetry we have? The codes and symbols and shorthand, the measurements? The markers and the baselines and the scans? I’m not interested in them anymore. I don’t have the slightest bit of interest.”
There was silence in the room.
“Sounds like you got religion,” one man said.
“I feel,” the astronaut said, “like a tiger who just walked out of the zoo.”
Security men stepped into the room. They had their hands on their holsters.
But the ops chief held up his hand.
“It’s all right,” he said. “We’re fine. This man found something. Let him go. No one will understand him. We’re protected. We’re all inside the protocol.”
There is the little-known work of philosopher/linguist Ernest Fenollosa, the author of The Chinese Written Character as a Medium of Poetry. Fenollosa analyzed modern Chinese words back to older pictographs that minimized nouns. Instead, these ancient pictographs, at one time, presented a view of reality that was far more dynamic and shifting, in which action was the main event. The subject and object of a sentence were themselves of lesser importance, and were related to one another by their mutual participation in that action. “To be” verbs—is, are, am—were just dead ducks. Irrelevant.
Suppose we had a language in which every noun was also a verb, in the sense that it threw off rays and curves and vectors of action and energy.
What would we have then?
We might, at the extreme, have an endless supply of dynamic universes. No potted plants.
We would be communicating with each other in a way that instantly gave birth to possibilities beyond current meanings embedded in our style of speaking and writing. The implications of each word of text would jump and leap. Instead of peeling off layers to get at the precise definition of a word, we would automatically be proliferating it.
Language, created by consciousness, also feeds back to it. And this feedback informs our way of viewing reality. The structure of language becomes, in a true sense, a monitor on what we can see and what we can’t see. What we can imagine and what we can’t imagine.
It’s as if a psychologist, running one of those old inkblot tests, told the patient: “Guess what? There’s nothing wrong with you. Forget all that nonsense. Look at these shapes and imagine anything you want to. Tell me what you invent. Then I’ll do the same. Pretty soon we’ll be speaking a different language, and we’ll levitate out of this worn-out reality…”
Then they start speaking in a different way. They’re out in open water. Their operational concept of Understanding is undergoing a revolution.
They’re experiencing sensations of flying and soaring. These sensations are feeding back into their body processes and into their minds. The hard wiring is giving way.
You could say they’re astronauts training for a mission in which they’ll encounter an intelligence that’s completely alien to Earth.
There are analogues to what I’m discussing here. For example, microtonal music. You tune a piano so that, altogether, the 88 keys display the range of sounds contained within just one octave of a conventional piano. Going from the lowest note to the highest on the microtonal piano, you hear thin slices and gradations of notes that cover, all told, no more ground than one octave of a normal piano.
You sit at the microtonal piano and you play. And play. And play.
You listen to what you play.
At first, it’s repugnant. It’s not only dissonant, it’s absurdly muddy.
But after a few months of playing that piano every day, you begin to hear something. It comes through. And the sensations it brings might remind you of places you’ve been, experiences you’ve had. But they go further, into a void where new sensations and meanings you can’t name are possible, are happening. Are real. Eventually, super-real.
These sensations flood your endocrine system, and new proportions and sequences of hormones are produced. You experience feelings you’d forgotten or never had before.
The spectrum of feeling and thought expands.
Your whole notion of what you can experience and understand changes.
Your imagination is gearing up.
You never seriously considered there could be seven comprehensible sounds between any two keys on an ordinary piano. Now, you’re not only hearing them, they make sense. They convey emotion.
This would be like saying that, between each pair of words in a sentence, there are seven other words, and every one of them is an action verb.
When you understand that expanded and exploded sentence, you can talk to an alien from another universe. He can talk to you.
After your first conversation, when you walk out of the facility where he’s under heavy guard, ride the elevator up to the parking lot, and drive through the gate, you look at the desert and you see things you never saw before.
You understand why magic was hard to do. It was all supposed to be taking place in a tight reality of unbreakable connections. Impossible. But now those connections have snapped. The landscape, any landscape, is much more inclusive and malleable.
You’re reminded things were this way once: wide open, free. And now processes in your body open up. There is a reason for them to change. They secrete information and energy that have been dormant for a long time. Dormant, because there was no use for them.
The cells in your nervous system wake up to a remarkable degree. They’ve been waiting for this moment. They turn off the perverted game show called Life they’ve been glued to for 40 years. They project rays in all directions. Your physical aliveness shifts up exponentially.
Through the walls of the holding facility behind you, you can see the alien. He’s nodding at you. Yes, he’s thinking. You’re on the right track.
(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)
Jon Rappoport
The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.
“A few minutes before the end, I was hit by lightning.
I suddenly understood everything they were saying.
I don’t know how.
And I couldn’t translate it back into English.
I just understood.”
“I was working from nothing, a void.”
“…in the sense
that it
threw off
rays
and curves
and vectors
of action
and energy.”
“…each word
of text
would jump
and leap.”
“And this feedback
informs
our way
of viewing reality.”
“The hard wiring
is giving way.”
“…into a void
where new sensations
and meanings
you can’t name
are possible…”
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
STEEL RAILS
& RAILINGS,
A WINDSURFERS EDGE
FRENCH HORNS SOUND…
“Why should I care?
Magically bored
On a quiet street corner
Quiet storm water
M-m-my generation
On a raft in the quarry
Born in the war
That their heroes are news”
~
‘Cause I’m an inveterate carer.
Oh well…
https://youtu.be/XC9YY1urT8Q
[he pulls down on the horizontal rip-cord…watching the stilling pavement, he leaps off the bus]
~~~
“A salamander scurries
into flame to be destroyed
Imaginary creatures
are trapped in birth on celluloid
The fleas cling
to the golden fleece
Hoping they’ll find peace
Each thought & gesture
are caught in celluloid
There’s no hiding in memory
There’s no room to void
The crawlers cover the floor
in the red ochre corridor
For my second sight…
We’ve got to get in to get out”
~ Rael
(from The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway)
https://youtu.be/XJOySnOFzm0
Genesis
~
“I’m not afraid of storms, for I’m learning how to sail my ship.”
~ Louisa May Alcott
Jon this (in between words meaning feeling aliveness) really brought something up within me (holy living moving) I can’t thank you enough (rising remembering being true self activation) so thank you very, very much for this today.
Enlightening stuff; the notion of a language instinct has
interested me. But it seems to operate only in early
childhood because feral children, raised by animals, lose
their ability to acquire language after a certain age.
The reference to Ernest Fenollosa and Chinese characters
is interesting. I had never heard of him, but Ezra Pound
translated Chinese poetry and I guess had some understanding of the evolution of Chinese characters.
By the way, is it even possible to tune a piano all into
one octave? Of course an electronic piano could be so tuned.
Not really possible with a standard piano. Each string length/thickness is designed for a certain pitch range, and the internal frame is also designed to support the different lengths. Soundboard also is designed that way. A grand piano redesigned to have a one octave range would only have a slight curve at the back.
But I wonder if listening to such an instrument would gradually change the way you hear music? Someone would have to write the music or improvise it.
I think the “awakening” so to speak of the cells constructing our nervous system has always been active we just haven’t tuned in to the information, or are not focusing consciously in that “direction”. This was a very refreshing experience for me to read, this examination of consciousness I feel is what we need as a species. Life is so wonderfully rich.
Thanks for the email.
This is so lovely, and very timely too. Right now there are thousands of people already communicating telepathically with ET beings. Yes. I’m thinking Jon might be one of them because what he is describing here are telepathic “thought packets.” When you communicate telepathically, you receive an etheric “box” filled with concepts, shapes, colors, emotions, ideas, conclusions and you have to decode it, very much like opening a gift box filled with many things. It’s incredibly interesting and exciting. Takes a little time and practice because our brains are trained from infancy to work verbally/linearly instead of on a multidimensional level, but when you allow a thought packet to settle into your consciousness, the magic unfolds. Humanity is awakening and this is a large part of how and why that is now happening across the planet.
Telepathy is one of the many deactivated skills stored in our mislabeled “Junk DNA.” We all have the ability of telepathy, we just have to move past our limiting programming and ask for a energetically benevolent ET to speak to you and they will if they see you are willing and able to speak telepathically as a free will choice. It’s similar to animal and earth spirit communication but it is not “mind reading;” we are sovereign beings and no one can intrude on our thoughts; all telepathic communication is done freely and willingly… and you don’t have to be in someone’s presence, telepathy is a quantum experience.
Oh the places you’ll go…
“December 2, 2080, closed room in Houston.”
Let’s see. Year 2080. That’s a full fifty years after ‘The Great Reset!’ fully took hold on the World and the human race had finally fully surrendered all the good things about being a human.
And Houston? It’s been fully submerged under the massive Gulf of Mexico ever since the Pole Shift of 2045. Much of the land masses were now under water.
What used to be called America is now called Wokesterdom Globalist Heaven – Areas One and Two. Area One is what remains of the land mass west of the Mississippi River which now has widened to become a vast inland sea that fully divides the continent from the Gulf all the way to what used to be Chicago (now fully submerged). Area Two is everything east of there.
The Wokesters who inhabit what used to be America all spend their days sitting on their rears while looking at a small screen imbedded into their hand with blank and glazed looks on their faces. In fact, they look this way all the time now. There is no other way to look because there is no other way to act and there is nothing to feel.
Globalist Tech gods do all the thinking and feeling and directing of the lives of the Wokesters. And the Woke seem so pleased with this arrangement.
Life before all this was… unpredictable. Unpredictable is… BAD. They used to have this thing called ‘Freedom’ and that was also BAD. People were thinking thoughts that they shouldn’t. And thoughts lead to feelings. And feelings lead to actions. And that’s all BAD.
Might end up with BAD ACTIONS. Can’t risk that.
Everyone was so much happier now… a happiness born from emptiness and numbness and the vacancy of one’s need to think and create and have Imaginati… opps! Can’t utter that word! That’s one of the many words and ideas that were long banished from society and from the reconstituted human mental operating software that was constantly being updated to fit the needs of The Controllers.
Life now was simple… and controlled. No one had any wants, because no one had any dreams or desires. People were… well… that’s about it. They just… ‘were’. They ‘existed’ as empty contortions of what once was a vibrant, living, dreaming, creating, spontaneous human being in the image of The Divine.
The Year was 2080. And the Paradise that so many had worked so hard to achieve sixty years earlier was finally fully formed. And everyone celebrated with blank looks on their faces while staring endlessly at their hand.
And one more thing had happened. The UFOs stopped visiting Earth. They just couldn’t bear to look at it any more.
enlightenment, the greatest gift.
[…]
Study the Orgone, it could extend or possibly save your life.
Orgone accumulator is essentially a Capacitor – Gathers latent Electrical energy from local ‘environment’ and then gently ‘recharges’ the body. No batteries, no solar panel, nothing to plug into a wall socket, no acupuncture needles, no connection to Any external power source other than Earth and Sun! Be wary of “Dry Needling.” They – most of them any way, do not know or understand what they are doing. Nor what is inherent in the 3,000 + years old base of information -mostly from Orient – China,Korea,Japan and other nearby nations.
One significant Addition to that body of knowledge:
Dr. George Goodheart, DC – Founder of Applied Kinesiology
(Melzack-Wall Gate Theory (of Pain))
[…]
Although I have yet to read Fenollosa’s work, being a Chinese (Hong Kong) person who knows a bit of archaic Chinese, and speaking one of the more historical dialects (Cantonese) rather than the ahistorical Mandarin, I could kind of catch what he was trying to say.
And the globalists (through communism) do work towards obliterating the Chinese language and culture: replacing the traditional pictograms with ahistorical “simplified” abominations in the mainland, and trying to replace the historical dialects with Mandarin, in which archaic texts, especially poetry, do not read (sound) right.
CGI Outer Space meets CGI Inner Space … make it anything you want it to be… C19/HIV Cooties don’t exist nor is Mars 98 million miles away with a dune buggy speeding about. So sick of all the Lies.
CGI tranny NPCs on screen, apparently power lines are not what they seems nor are the airplanes… who knows what the reality is.
That’s why I have such a hard time to remember what I did during the night when I was not in this universe.