The last Dave Oshana online event, ‘Healing Humanity’s Tainted Inter-Generational Ancestral Blood,’ was a softer, looser, affair: settling into the new state stirred by the “death-of humanity trilogy” of the last three weeks (partially reiterated at this blog). Dave’s many-horse-power engine was sidling, as if giving us time to mount before the next lift-off. And since DaOs is preparing to host a free online event soon, in the run-up to Easter, the analogy may be apt: Oshana’s Ark is lingering in the crumbling dock of the planet, as the storm clouds gather overhead. Are you ready to partner up with your life force and stumble, stagger, race, or glide up that closing ramp, forever?
The talk was ostensibly about the ancestral line, which we currently represent the end or near-end of, and how the life experience of 200,000 (or however many) previous generations has not rendered us perfected models of humanity but quite the reverse. Instead, we are crouched on the edge of the eschaton, creaking, Charlie Atlas-like, under the weight of a seemingly intolerable and Sisyphusian burden—God’s unliftable rock known as humankind. And just as a mountain stream gets less and less pure and more and more polluted the deeper it enters into “civilization” (Cain’s land), so the further we are from our source, the muddier our veins and the more constricted our fascia (see last post) become.
Misery Loves Gunkiness
Some recurring questions raised on the meeting:
If people are unable to change, and if we ourselves are unable to approach them without banging up against their inertia, and so increasing their resistance, what then? It is no wonder we suffer from arrested déjà vu syndrome: the forever recurring sensation that we never quite experienced any of this—because we still haven’t managed to land in our lives and connect to reality.
Our insistence, to anyone who will listen, of existing as a separate identity, combined with our continued failure to find any solid evidence for it, is summed up, sort of, by the increasingly popular response (in my thrift store at least) to the question “How’s it going?”:
“Can’t complain: no one would listen anyway.”
Why will no one listen? Is it because no one but us believes in our so-called identity, suffering and all? Or because everyone else is too busy trying to convince themselves of their own right to be miserable? Misery doesn’t actually love company: it thrives on isolation, which depends on everyone else being equally miserable and alone with their “spiritual gunk.”
Why? Because the ancestral burden is too damn heavy to do anything but roll it back and forth up the hill endlessly? Is this the eternal paradox of self-inflicted suffering: if we keep repeating the same mistakes over and over, we never have to see what we are doing? Déjà vu becomes jamais-vu.
At least until the fiddler shows up, demanding to be paid for a song we never really heard.
The Corona virus, meanwhile, as Dave made the essential point, is driving home to us just how truly interconnected, interdependent, and interlocked we are as a species.
Life Downstream: Ancestral Lineage Degeneration
All this comes down to sensations in the body (and the energy body) that give us a sense of rightness or wrongness. Existence is a series of symptoms that we can notice or ignore, follow to our destruction, or to the cure.
When we listen to others speaking, we tend to focus on the words and whether or not they are what we want to hear. But what really stirs sensations in us is not syntax, but the physical currency of voices—not what our partner, friend, or family member says to us, but how they say it.
Can we listen with a musician’s ear to how people speak to us, the tone, the tempo, the rhythm, the melody, the pauses, the strains in or releases of energy and emotion? Can we listen as a doctor once listened to a patient’s heartbeat, to get a sense of that soul’s rhythm, in relation to us, of the quality, depth, duration, and intensity of our connection?
Dave has pointed this out here at this blog:
A review of the Auti pages reveals that commenting is broken as proper communication medium. It doesn’t filter extraneous noise but amplifies it. From Web 2.0 to 3.0, Jasun has started guiding the concept-bound toward online video interaction as an improvement. Reverting back to old school real-world face-to-face connection will reveal many of the secrets that words can never address without first having the requisite experiences. Best to meet in pristine nature.
Language that is reduced to words reduces human communication to the lowest possible bandwidth. Text on a screen (like this) is the ultimate reductio ad absurdum of a Chinese whisper ancestral lineage degeneration. A stream in which everyone has washed their dirty laundry before it reaches us is not a stream to drink from. We are left with the lowest and weakest resolution of “image” that creates an information dearth, and dirge, in which the miscommunication proliferates and escalates—like a contagion.
Coronavirus 101: As Within, So Without
Dave’s diagnosis of humanity 2020 is that the human race is currently on high alert: its activities are restricted to the barest essentials of survival (and ready to fight to the death over loo roll). The logical end-point of this is self-isolation, self-quarantine: do not touch or share space with any other body, because they will infect you. Rely only on the machine-state to take care of you and you will be fine (not).
The coronavirus (which my 2010 Microsoft Word spellcheck recognizes, though I did not add it to the program dictionary) is a macro-level manifestation of the clear and present danger of the fascia system in a state of emergency, total defense, total lockdown.
Information overload is central to this contagion process, both as a defense against it and an unconscious way of spreading it. Because, the more fear there is over the alleged virus (the deadly other), the more the nervous/defense system of the fascia clamps up, the more the symptoms proliferate.
The coronavirus may be internally as well as externally generated. It may be created in a human lab but also, via bio-mimesis and the contagious nature of fear, recreated in the laboratory of the human body. It is, like us, both natural and anti-natural.
Meanwhile, we exist in terror—understandably—of coming into contact with 200,000 generations of ancestral memory and are doing whatever we can to keep our awareness out of that, by keeping our senses flooded with meaningless, manufactured data so we won’t be able to receive reality. We fear feeling anything because to feel is to risk being overwhelmed by feeling, losing control over our bodies, emotions, and thoughts.
The only thing we need to do—relax—becomes increasingly difficult, the more we look to the world (other people) for ways to behave. Liminality goes viral. Crumbling inner boundaries gives rise to the imposition of more and more external borders and controls.
“That Thing is Real?”
Corona means crown: individual sovereignty is a nice idea, but it’s not how Nature organizes itself. The king and the people are one, and the people and the land are one. Hence, the virus and the planet are one.
The coronavirus is underscoring our interconnectedness. It corresponds with something internal and endemic to us all: something we have carried down through the generations: an original contamination.
This traumatic imprint or discordant note in the nervous system (even in the human soul) includes its own anti-tampering mechanism to prevent us from looking too closely at it. Who wants to see that hideous implant inside us when we feel helpless to ever remove it? But what if seeing it is the first and most difficult step to removing it?
When Thomas Anderson sees the bug inside him, it’s only at the point of having it removed. He cries, “Jesus! That thing is real?” No one answers; the answer, of course, is: “As real as you are, Thomas.”
Dave Oshana does his own version of Morpheus, not because he is influenced by the movie, but because the movie tuned into a reality that is most closely embodied, in my life, by Dave and what crystallizes around him (though by this point, for Dave to remove himself would not, perhaps, cause that crystallization to collapse).
The wire mesh of the colonized fascia is the internal matrix that has turned us into generators of an eons-long false reality: coppertops; human batteries. But, by this same token, since we are all plugged into the same energy-sapping source, we are all interconnected; and when one of us pops out the ancestral-gunk-mesh, all the others feel it too.
And as we start to emerge, we do so with the antidote now activated in our bloodstream. We can now afford to put our mouths to the rancid snake bite of our neighbor, in the pod next door, and draw out the poison. Can we afford not to?
Acclimatizing to Eschaton
I recently had an insight due to my time with Dave Oshana and the others involved in the group-merge project. This applies most especially to experiences on the Finnish island, but also via online events, whether hosted by Dave, by other participants, or by myself for the online Liminalist meets. What the events offer, as Dave’s comments about language above suggest, is an experience of merging—of connecting deeply and inter-dimensionally—with other souls, including ones who are relative, even total, strangers, but with whom we share an orientation.
That shared orientation amounts to a mutual language, a lingua franca, that transcends our social and cultural orientation and makes us, not strangers but familiars. My experience over the years has allowed me to see with increasing clarity the purpose of this coming together inside the Oshana Ark: that the many meetings are a means for me to acclimatize myself to “eschaton,” to prepare for the merging with humanity that is our inescapable destiny, a destiny that no one gets to sidestep.
The thrift store also, in its way, is also preparing me for Apocalypse, albeit pretty much at the other end of the spectrum: from the sublime to the mundane!
Each time I interact with others, within a group that is focused and oriented towards a shared goal—even if that goal is only partially articulated or conscious—trust builds. My nervous system begins to calm itself while being exposed to the gaze of others. On all these different events, online and on-island, souls gather with an imperative that is nonsocial. Often, it is to listen to one primary person speaking (Dave, or myself), yet with the awareness that, at some point, you will be invited, encouraged, to participate in the group dynamic and find yourself within it.
Find yourself, get it?
When the Witness Gets Witnessed
Most people, maybe even all of us, have some anxiety over speaking in a group context. But doing so generally lets us see that there is no rational reason for the fear: nothing bad happens, nor can happen, in such a setting. Our ancestral gunk may get seen, and we may get to see the gunk of others. But no contamination occurs due to the exposure. On the contrary.
The meetings provide an opportunity to test the reality of our deeply embedded fears—our fascia system of defense—against the reality of life itself. They allow for us to gradually dissolve an internally generated fascia-facsimile, a counterfeit of existence that has kept us a prisoner for most of our lives. They provide an invaluable opportunity to identify and isolate the virus, the internal matrix, which we constantly create and recreate, dreaming awake, via the enormous ancestral baggage of hand-me-down trauma-goods.
As we interact in a group, as we move from passive and mostly unseen witnessing (leave our safe space) to visible and audible engagement, we get to have the experience of being seen and heard and accepted. As we relax and open, we start to merge with the others present, even as the various nervous systems begin to harmonize with and pacify one another.
Over time, we get to test, observe, and reduce our agitation levels, with the growing realization of what is truly possible. Calming the nervous system and dissolving the fascia allows us to remold our inner world into a space of peace, love, and harmony. Like the heroines of the myths, devotedly sorting a near infinity of seeds and receiving help from tiny or invisible helpers, we sift through all the things that cause us to go into a panic reaction, and put them aside. We develop immunity to the fear-virus.
What begins as a Herculean task that never ends becomes a natural process that, at a certain point, develops its own momentum. After that, it becomes as inevitable and as effort-free as waking up, gently stirred by the light and warmth of the Sun’s rays.
By that point, we are already on the move.
Now it’s time to get practical. Dave Oshana’s next online event is “When Patently False Idol Perceptions Go Down: A Case of Mistaken Multiple Identities in Closed Cognitive Systems,” on March 22, 2020. He is also planning a free online meet-up for April 4th, 2020: “World’s End Party: Free Enlightenment Transmission Meet & Greet.” To get in the loop book now, and/or contact Dave directly.
I plan to host a Zoom meet this Saturday, 21 March, for the Spring equinox; this is dependent on sufficient interest, however; failing that (since some have expressed a preference for weekdays), a second option is for next Wednesday, 25. The time will probably be 1 pm, Pacific Time, which is currently 7 hours behind GMT. This is (roughly) the best time to suit all ends of the planet, not too late in the UK, not too horrendously early in Oz. Currently there are no parties in Finland wishing to attend, which might require moving it slightly earlier.
Since I am unable to predict the focus or shape of the event at this time (unenlightenment’s a bitch), below is less a description than a sort of primer or mood-setter, to help you gauge your level of interest.
Are you curious about how the next moment will sink or stand in eternity? Do you ever wonder if the afterlife might turn out to be the sum total of every last one of your choices, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant? Most importantly of all, if there’s a bar in Heaven, will you end up next to the most annoying drunk in the room?
If you locate yourself somewhere on the spectrum between “mildly curious” and “balls (&/or ovaries) ALL IN,” please contemplate, Zen-like, the following questions and, if sufficiently motivated by the guiding intelligence within those hanging globules, answer those of them that summon the jizz within you, either in the comments below (in which case, you may receive a follow up probe from me), or directly to [my first name] at [protonmail.com]:
1. Will you attend the next live Liminalist meet-up?
2. Which day suits you better?
3. Is this something you’d be interested in doing more than once, or on a regular basis?
4. What sort of participation would you be interested in?
5. Will you make a small (or large) donation for participating?
6. What’s your primary interest in Auticulture and attending a live event?
7. Are you interested in Dave Oshana?
8. Are these the end-times?
9. Is humanity self-destructing?
10. Is humanity salvageable?
11. Do you see yourself as separate from humanity & if so how?
12. What does any of this have to do with enlightenment?
While I cannot predict the subject matter, since some (including myself) find a total absence of structure potentially agitating for the nervous system, I may start by answering the last six of the above questions (the first six being n/a), and see where it leads. The answers I have received so far have been unexpected and illuminating…
As further preparation/priming to help you determine your eligibility for the event (or mine), here is a recent interview with Greg Moffat, of Legalize Freedom, which I did a few days ago. This was a conscious attempt to approach the interview format without wearing any of my old hats and let what’s left of my hairs hang loose:
Jasun Horsley – Transhumanism and the Colonisation of Space, on Legalize Freedom:
Other recent interviews are listed here.
20 thoughts on “Oshana’s Ark, or, When Humanity’s Fascia Relaxes: Containing the Crowned Virus (Latest JaHo-DaOs Update)”
I would really like to participate, but am currently in lockdown in the Sinai, with only my phone. Btw, It’s been fantastic to be in a hut, by the sea, and listening to the “Liminalist” podcasts. Truly, we are connected.
If you have internet, then you can participate.
The problem is the internet in this part of the world + one has to get phone/internet credit top-ups & all shops are closed for the lock-down. We’re out in the desert/by the Red Sea & are cut off from everywhere, as of today. All goods are stopped at the Suez Canal Road. No one’s thinking about toilet paper– we had to stock up on drinking water & food for the next 14 days. I ain’t complaining, though, it’s still preferable to being in lockdown @ the castle in France, from which we last spoke.
Great post. For some reason, the phrase, “I have met the enemy, and he is us”, is stuck in my mind, and the picture of Donald Trump as the figure on the top of a Christmas tree with all its fancy lights and shiny packages as the tree slowly starts to topple.
On the synchro front, yesterday I was eating lunch and listening to New Thinking Allowed, with the guest Jason Reza Jorjani, and thinking of reading his book, Prometheus and Atlas, during this slow down. Much appreciated, Jasun.
Right. I understand and agree that language is inadequate. Nevertheless, please indulge me if you can as I consider it of the utmost importance. Can you please share anything regarding what you think/know of the ‘Parasite’.
I don’t expect to understand ‘Reality’, not even sure I can. It’s too big for me as things stand. Mapping Hell, however, has afforded me enough insight to know where I stand in the world as it overtly is. “Not to flinch in the presence of another.” That is what requires attention, body and soul. The fact is that since Dave’s first free Zoom event until now, I continually feel/recognise/see that ‘my fascia’ is constantly clenching like a butthole holding in diarrhoea. The fact that my whole body seizes up on a cellular level like pulsating fear when encountering almost anyone, even loved ones, waiting to experience anything, even activities which I enjoy, needs addressing before I can even begin to come to terms and the implication of Eschaton.
Just to be fair, respite does occur, but it is scarce. The Zoom meets have been one of those occasions. The ‘state’ I poorly explained during the meetings was me being relaxed, much more so than I know how to be voluntarily, hence I don’t have the words to describe it.
So, if there’s any chance of clarification on the ‘Parasite’, I think it might be helpful. Are we creating it or is it totally alien/foreign to us?
“Just to be fair, respite does occur, but it is scarce. The Zoom meets have been one of those occasions.”
Request that the National Health Service sponsor around the clock Enlightenment Transmission/Liminalist Zoom meetings so that the perpetually-tight fascial sphincter of the British psyche might open. Be ready for The Deluge of centuries-old crimson-brown effluent as it slips off the White Cliffs of Dover, causing waves in Calais and cries of “Bloody Merde!” from our sophisticated Chanel-wearing neighbours. From “stiff upper lips” to loose rectal shits. Eschaton is coming! Bring out the garlic!
Eschatology, meet scatology.
You ask a helluva a question, Cedo. What came to me in the shower, where most of my thinking gets done (maybe as it’s about the only time I get to think!) was this:
Cedomir wants me to explain how the snake got into the garden and what it is; (Morpheus asks Neo: “The Matrix: do you want to know what it is?”) Only God really knows the answer to that, but He did leave us some breadcrumbs in the movie dream world. (Eg: The parasite is everywhere, it is all around us, even now in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window, or you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work, when you go to church, when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.)
The nature of the parasite is that it gives us a purpose; the trick is distinguishing the false purpose it offers (by installing its own “thoughts” in us & telling us what we want & how to get it), and the true purpose which its existence provides us, namely: to free ourselves from its influence. Since the serpent is nothing if not cunning, it knows how to trick us into turning a true purpose (freedom) into a false one (slavery), whereupon all our life force gets redirected into “resisting evil” (fighting Satan and avoiding Hell), reinforcing the parasite’s hold on us (witness certain un-Christ-ian “Christians” sometimes seen loitering in this blogspace; also witness the global fear-crackdown in reaction to the c-virus).
The parasite is the Original Flinch that occurred in Creation. Whether the split caused the flinch or the flinch caused the split, whether it was Creation that flinched on realizing it existed (Lucifer/Man), or consciousness (God) on witnessing its Creation looking back at it (Whoa – is that me?), God only knows (and even He may have forgotten). It is 6 of the one and half a dozen cracked luminous Eagle eggs of the other. The flinch occurred, and the butterfly-effect has rippled down the eons like diarrhea down the demiurge’s butt crack, sucking humanity right into the eye of the shit-storm.
Better just get flushed, like Thomas-the-turd. To be born again, as JIS has been noticing, is to be pooped out.
I was actually asking about the Parasite’s origin, without actually posing the question correctly. I’ll settle for the Original Flinch and “6 of the one and half a dozen cracked luminous Eagle eggs of the other.”
“Diarrhea down the demiurge’s butt crack” deserves a blog post .
I am the monkey in the cage
frantically pushing the lever for my random shot of cocaine
endlessly, tirelessly, obsessively
the internet is my lever
confirmation is my cocaine
do I have the willpower to walk through the open cage door
into the jungle beyond
Damn, the door is locked
In order to eat I must wiggle the lever sideways
But if I go up and down, I might get a treat.
What is a monkey to do?
I think female monkey is really serious this time. She is screeching and hopping mad.
She insists that I spend less time listening to my favorite record,
Dave’s magical mystery tour, and
that I also stop my favorite activity, no not that activity, you should be ashamed for even
thinking it, my other favorite activity, navel gazing. You see, she is tired of sharing her food with me. She is really good at manipulating that lever and getting a lot of food to come out.
Me, on the other hand, why I can only get crumbs to come out. I explain this to female monkey, she looks with disgust, reminding me that in my youth I had the best lever trainers available. Now go get some food! I hop over to the lever, a few side to side motions, nothing. But up and down, yaaaa, there is the good stuff. Give it to me. Ahhh that’s it.
Wait, someone is tapping on my shoulder. Oh no, it’s female monkey! Sorry honey. I weakly wiggle the lever side to side to show her no food will come out. Don’t look at me like that. Here, let me get some of those bugs out of your fur, yah, there you go, see, don’t you feel better? What, monkey business now? Sure thing banana fur. ( It’s a monkey compliment, go figure)
Later, female monkey is asleep, and I should get some sleep, gotta get up early and wiggle that lever all day, but maybe I’ll just give it a few up and down wiggles before I go to sleep,
who will know?.
That’s hilarious. Especially for anyone who gets to contrast your secret prose with your worldly pose.
What a cliffhanger. Will monkey keep it up or will there be a hearty wrench?
*(“on” means “is” in Finnish)
It’s my life in a banana peel. I really do need to cut way back on my web readings. I don’t think I can avoid it completely and still function in this society. I’ll give it a try though. Jasun, if you don’t see my comments for awhile you’ll know my battle against my demons is still being waged.
Paid to fight demons? Someone had to get the short straw.
A mental slip. I wrote that just before telling my one staff member that we will be closing down for at least one month, she will need to look into unemployment. I’m losing battle already by responding to you. Looks like I picked the wrong day to stop self medicating.
JIS: I have been trying to brainstorm about what line of business is bound to boom in the end-times (besides hand-sanitizer)….
And it looks like we picked the wrong month for the Apocalypse: Lent! D’oh!
I’ve been thinking about the same question and other than the vaccine and medical gear, potentially food if it gets really bad, the only thing that springs to mind are Doomsday cults. In line with “The Power of Ritual in Prehistory”, membership would require a hefty fee with additional expenses to move up the ranks! Mind you, cults seem to be a meta-market, always in fashion.
PS I’ve noticed price gouging is already in effect, up to £10 per loo roll in certain corner shops in London.
Whatever the cause, or purpose/aim of current political action, worldwide, it’s exceptionally (fucking) tough on the majority of us. Sounds like you’re in added trouble because you’re also responsible for your employee. I have friends who own businesses and they’re fuming and anxious. I don’t envy you. Good luck to you JIS, and everyone else in the crowd, to make ends meet.
Throughout history, epidemics caught governments unaware, disinterested in general, and far from capable to deal with them. Currently, their actions might be preventing the virus from spreading but they are sinking medium and small businesses. Once this pandamonium ends, the economic landscape might look very different to a month ago.
Did Eschaton coinciding with Oshana’s Ark or is Oshana preparing the Ark in anticipation of the Apocalypse?!
“Did Eschaton coinciding with Oshana’s Ark or is Oshana preparing the Ark in anticipation of the Apocalypse?!”
Animals know when a tsunami is coming. If you feel the earth quake then get down with the dogs. Cats don’t like to be held. If all else fails remember that we are 50% water. That’s the start of my answer. The rest is inaudible above the roar and indelible on this page.
For some reason, all this reminds me of a mostly-forgotten James Taylor song, “Riding on a Railroad.” Here’s a link:
Feels right, but I am not sure I can explain why…