The Long, Slow Descent into Sanity

“So they expect us to believe that the Chicago Fire began because a cow kicked over a candle and everything exploded; including this fireplace, which has literally had a fire in it ten thousand times.”

Travis laughed. This guy was great. Travis couldn’t decide if the guy actually bought what he was selling, or if he just had an angle. Surely, he just had an angle. Right? The thing was, he was super sarcastic, and that was funny. He used a lot of old photographs to make his points, and a lot of those seemingly had merit. Chicago after the fire looked like it had been air raided, rather than burned.

My Lunch Break was a booming channel on Youtube. He explored the idea that our society actually began around 1776 after some cataclysm. He posited that the World Fairs were nefarious events intended to help rewrite history and populate the United States, as well as to destroy architectural evidence of the previous society in the form of “old world buildings” which we no longer make today. This guy believed that our history was written by AI, and that everything we’ve been taught is a lie, all in order to create and spread an economic system. Because Tartaria. Or something like that.

Travis consumed a lot of media, though. Books, video documentaries, and lectures, mostly, on a diverse range of topics. He’d grown up during a time when you could only know what someone told you or what you found in a book. That was it. As a kid, he’d learned everything from a book or another person, either of which could have been unreliable. If he’d wanted to know how to fix a flat tire, he’d asked someone, and either the tire got fixed or it didn’t. If it did, he trusted what he learned. If it was historical, people from his time just took it at face value that it was a fact. Hey, it’s in a book, and experts agree. Because they read that same book.

Travis also consumed a lot of true crime. A lot of true crime. It had seemed the next logical step from the fictional mysteries he’d always enjoyed. There was nothing better than a good mystery for Travis. From Poe’s Dupin to Preston and Child’s Pendergast, Travis had read them all, he was pretty sure. Their villains had always fascinated Travis. Villains in general, really. Villains, without exception, always saw the world a different way. That alone didn’t make them villains, though. Lots of people don’t agree with the commonly held worldviews. From Lucifer to Osama bin Laden, villains were the people who also had the balls to do something about it. Every story he’d ever read was always crafted so that the villain lost in the end, and Travis knew why.

Well, the villains weren’t always people, technically. Witness Poe’s The Murders in the Rue Morgue. Interestingly, the “villain” there had been a chimpanzee, our closest living relative. We share 99% of our DNA with them. We are 99% chimpanzee. Chimpanzees are 99% human. Think about that for a moment. No, seriously. Do it. 

Travis had always felt like something just wasn’t right. Was he really meant to spend his life as a cog in the economic machine so he could live in a big expensive house with air conditioning and zoom around in a metal box with wheels? Is that what he was? Is that what we, as humans, should naturally be doing? There wasn’t anything natural about that to Travis. The native Americans weren’t doing that. The Aztec weren’t doing that. The Maya weren’t doing that. The Inca weren’t doing that. 200,000 years of human history weren’t doing that.

You know who does that? Travis knew. White people. White people do that. White people put on clothes to hide their humanity so they can focus on “progress”, wealth, and power.  “Study the history of western ‘civilization’ and tell me I’m wrong,” thought Travis. The act of ‘civilizing’ peoples is what occurred during Westward Expansion, referred to as "Manifest Destiny" by whites of the time. Those who wouldn’t conform were killed.

Oxford defines civilization as “the stage of human social and cultural development and organization that is considered most advanced.” Most advanced? Riiiiiiiight. Just because it’s different, doesn’t mean it’s “advanced”. It doesn’t mean it’s a step in the right direction or even a good direction. It could be an aberration in the evolutionary process that nature would quickly cull. Calling it “most advanced” is editorializing it. Travis had been a journalist. He knew that only people with an agenda editorialized. Can anything that leads to pollution of the world which sustains us and the ability to destroy all human life on earth via weapons of mass destruction really be “progress” or “advancement”? Travis didn’t think so.

We all do what we do today without even stopping to think about it, because we were taught to do it. Like our parents were taught to do it. Like their parents were taught to do it. And so on. Why? Because. That’s why. That never sat well with Travis.

Travis wasn’t interested in being “civilized” anymore just so someone else could make a buck and remain comfortable. Travis wasn’t interested in a fucking job. Travis just wanted a cave or a rock overhang somewhere where he could build a fire and raise a garden, but all the “civilized” people “owned” everything. To achieve an archaic standard of living, Travis was expected to be civilized until he could afford to be archaic. This is how they keep people in their system. Do it long enough, and you’ll get used to it. You become trained. You become comfortable. You become soft. 

“Go to work, okay? That’s a good boy. Here’s a plastic Voltron toy. See? You like that, don’t you? Here, stare at this screen. That’s Tony Soprano! Isn’t this nice? You can be comfortable and have these “things”, just keep being an obedient and submissive slave to the grind until you die, okay? Don’t ever be human, okay? That’s a good boy.”

Travis knew that these “advanced” people used their religion to create these obedient and submissive slaves, and he knew why. Man may not fear another man, but he’ll certainly fear an all powerful being he cannot perceive, if you can just get him to believe such an entity exists. Then, even stronger men who would otherwise oppose you would comply. Willingly. Eagerly. But that doesn’t change what the man is. He’s still a human being with natural, human desires that get labeled sinful, repressing who and what he really is in order to maintain the status quo. “Don’t be human! Your humanity is bad!” 

“For the flesh lusts against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; and these are contrary to one another, that you may not do the things that you desire.” -Paul “Pay your taxes, and slaves, be obedient to your masters.” -Also Paul. Convenient commands for the ruling elite, are they not?

The dissonance within him was nearing a fever pitch. His natural animal instincts warred against his brainwashed mind. “Be good and keep going to work or you won’t have air conditioning!” THIS ISN’T NATURAL “Your natural instincts are not acceptable in a civilized society.” FUCK CIVILIZATION

Was it any wonder that Travis struggled with his mental health? Would there even be a struggle if not for the “civilized” society creating it in order to point it out and keep him marginalized? Travis had studied a lot about mental health in an effort to understand himself, mostly Cluster B personality disorders and traits. Travis remembered being diagnosed with the dark triad. He had felt vindicated. His super villain resume was complete. People like Travis became CEO’s, preachers, politicians, and serial killers. It’s all the same, really. Travis could spot people like him from a mile away.

Everything had clicked for Travis when he happened upon the radio show where Adam Lanza of Sandy Hook infamy called in to talk about the famous case of a chimpanzee who had been raised “civilized” to live like a human. The chimpanzee lived in a house, watched TV, wore clothes, had a job, ate meals with his human family, everything. He also became obese, addicted to Xanax, eventually ripped someone’s face off, and had to be executed by his more “civilized” human relatives. Sound familiar?

Now, why did this happen? Travis knew. This happened because the chimpanzee had not evolved to live like that. That wasn’t what he was. He’d been brainwashed into thinking he was something that he intrinsically knew he wasn’t. Like you. Like me. Like US. Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore.

Travis wanted to burn it all down and piss on the ashes. At this point, for that to happen, it would take another worldwide cataclysm like the mass extinction event that took out the dinosaurs and 75% of all life on this planet. Fortunately, this was absolutely guaranteed to happen again. 99% of Travis just hoped “progress” and “advancement” didn’t destroy 100% of his species first. 

The remaining 1% had the balls to do something about it. 

Clinton Anderson closed his bible, carefully marking his spot and stuffed it into his backpack. Yawning, he surveyed his surroundings carefully. This was turning out to be a great place, just like his eccentric friend had said it would be. He had been skeptical at first. People were somewhat nearby. He could hear them, occasionally. But, as promised, no one ever came here. Well, almost no one.

He had to hurry if he was to make it to the soup kitchen before it closed at dusk. People there were kind to veterans like him who were down on their luck, even if they stayed down on their luck. His first time there, they’d given him a bible and he’d found God. Clint had struggled with mental illness since his time in the service. PTSD was a bitch, and early-onset dementia was setting in. Sure, he drank a lot. Every chance he got. He was on a first name basis with the local liquor store owner and their employees. 

Clint had been homeless for well over a decade. After being discharged from service, he’d stayed on Oahu as a dive instructor, living his dream. It wasn’t long before his coping mechanism of drinking took over, and his wife left. Not long after that, he’d had to close his business. Not long after that, he’d lost his vehicle. Then his home and possessions. He’d ended up back on the mainland with nothing and no one. The VA was no help at all. Marines never leave anyone behind, but Clint sure felt left behind. That is, until, somehow, after all these years, God had finally sent him a prophet. Skayt, of all people.

BLOOD MAKES THE GRASS GROW KILL KILL KILL

Clint grinned, lost in the past for a moment. They had been close friends back when they both enthusiastically Screamed such cadences every morning during PT. Clint had liked to drink, even then, but somehow it had been more manageable while he was young. Time catches up with all men, eventually.

He had been completely dumbfounded to find Skayt walking the streets that day. Skayt said he’d found Clint by searching the internet. God worked in mysterious ways. Clint hadn’t owned a phone since he lost his home. A phone served no purpose for people like him. Phones were for people who still had something to lose. Skayt had bought him a membership at the local YMCA so he could shower whenever he wanted and said that if Clint wanted to try and get back on his feet, he would help. Clint had wanted no part of that. Skayt had smiled softly at this.

Skayt had taken him out to eat, bought him clothes, and then they’d shared a fifth of Knob Creek, reminiscing about their time together in the Corps. All the serious career men had despised Clint. Skayt had been his best friend. And now, Skayt had returned for him so that he wouldn’t be left behind.

“I thank The Lord for you, Skayt. I don’t know why God is so good to me, but He is.”

Skayt raised an eyebrow at this, looking thoughtful for a moment. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Clint. I wasn’t sure about sharing my reason for being here. Until now.”

Clint blinked. “What? Why?” 

Skayt put his hand on Clint’s shoulder, looking him in the eye as he answered:

“God told me to find you, Clint. He knew you had certain skills and the backbone to handle His business,” Skayt explained. “Clint, you know The Almighty uses the least among us to carry out His will, right?” Clint nodded as if this were obvious. “God sent me to you to give you an aim. A purpose in His great plan.”

“A name? What could I possibly have to offer someone like you or The Almighty?” Clint had replied. “But sure, whatever you need, Skayt. Anything. Name it.” He took another drink.

“Clint, God showed me a place that He thinks you will like. A beautiful home just for you. It certainly beats the crowded sidewalks and park benches,” he’d said. Clint was curious.

“A place?” he’d asked.

“A place. A place you’ll have all to yourself for the most part,” Skayt said.

“What’s the catch?” Clint knew there had to be a catch.

“I- I mean- God,” Skayt amended, ”is asking you only to guard it. With your life.”

Clint had stared at Skayt. “With my life?” Skayt nodded, deadly serious. “What for?”

“Come see,” Skayt said, waving for Clint to follow. “You’re going to love it.”

Clint indeed did love the place.

“Do you like it here?” Skayt asked.

“I do. I hope I never have to leave,” Clint said. Skayt slowly grinned at this response.

“Then you needn’t ever leave, Clint,” Skayt said. “Unless…” Skayt's face fell then, suddenly appearing troubled.

Clint became anxious. “Unless what, Skayt?”

“Well, Clint, there are some people who might try to visit you here, and you can’t allow that. They’ll only bring more people with them next time,” Skayt said. “They’ll report you to try and take away what God has given you.”

“I can’t keep people from coming here, Skayt! That’s impossible. How am I supposed to stop them?” Clint asked.

Skayt had chuckled at this. “Clint, this isn’t about keeping them out. It’s about keeping them in. As long as no one leaves, there’s no one to report your presence or tell others about this place. They’re enemies, Clint. Enemies of God. You remember how we were trained to deal with enemies, don’t you?”

Clints eyes had narrowed then. Enemies. He hated enemies. “They don’t like God?”

Skayt shook his head, pulling out an old USMC standard-issue KA-BAR with red flecks on the blade. Skayt studied it in a distantly reflective sort of way as he spoke.

“And they don’t like you either, Clint. They’re greedy, evil people. The love of money is the root of all evil, Clint. God says so. You know that, right? These people already have more than they need, but they still want more. They have homes -unlike you, cars -unlike you, property -unlike you, $2,000 phones -unlike you, money in the bank -unlike you, a refrigerator full of food -unlike you,” Clint was getting angry now, “and if you let them leave, they’ll report you and take away even what little you have because they think you don’t have a right to be here. You, who served God and country to the point of damaging your mind.” Now Clint was really pissed.

Skayt made hard eye contact with him then.

“They’re the people who walk right by you every day as if you aren’t there, Clint, with their Rolexes and Gucci handbags, ignoring your pleas and the audible rumble of your empty stomach,” Skayt said. “They’re the assholes yelling at you to get a job every day. They think you deserve to live like this, without dignity. But God disagrees and wants them punished for their sins. That’s where you come in, Clint.” Skayt offered him the weapon.

Clint seethed. Staring Skayt straight in the eye, he accepted the KA-BAR and stowed it in his belt at the small of his back. It felt familiar. As if he were always destined to have it. “Are they dangerous?”

Skayt laughed, clapping Clint on the shoulder good-naturedly. “Nah, Clint. They aren’t like us. They’ll be easy marks, and besides, God will empower you in His service to carry out the important purpose He has given you. If you can do this for God, He has commanded me make sure you always have membership at the Y, and I am to make sure you always get anything you need from the soup kitchen. That’s my role in His plan to bless you. All you have to do is defend your new God-given home,” he’d said. “Do we have an accord, my brother?”

Enraged, Clint stared into Skayt’s eyes, hate twisting his features. “Damn straight we do,” he intoned, “by God.”

Pointing out a specific spot under a tree a few yards away, Skayt said, “Just stack’em here with this one.”

Skayt hugged him then. “I love you, brother. Don’t forget. I’m counting on you. God is counting on you. You are His Sentinel. May your eyes never close. Semper Fi, Devil Dog,” Skayt said.

“Semper Fi, Skayt…God bless,” he’d replied, overwhelmed, as Skayt turned and walked away.

Skayt had been true to his word. Clint was sure Skayt had been a messenger from God, and Clint always remembered his old friend in his prayers. Clint had always been able to count on Skayt. One year after this meeting, he had gone to the Y to shower, and his membership had been renewed. The soup kitchen always had what he needed, even when the requests weren’t of the usual sort. Skayt and The Good Lord deserved his loyalty. Loyalty was all that mattered in life. SEMPER FIDELIS. Always faithful. That meant something to him. And to Skayt. 

Two evil, greedy bastards had ventured into his territory since that meeting. He’d done the Lord’s good work to make sure they stayed there with him. Skayt had been right about him being good at this. They’d never seen it coming. Someday, when his wretched life was through, Clint would have a mansion in heaven for his faithful service. He’d also enlisted some faithful friends to help him watch the perimeter without letting them know that he lived inside. The soup kitchen had provided basic outdoor walkie talkies when he asked for them. His friends didn’t have anything else to do, anyway, so Clint had given them an aim. A purpose. It made them feel useful, important, even; a feeling people like him didn’t often experience.

Somewhere, thousands of miles away from Clint, Skayt closed a similar deal in a similar fashion with another fellow Marine in a similar situation, handing him a Buck 120. And a mask.

God worked in mysterious ways. 

The truth has a funny way of revealing itself. Not that it’s hiding from us. It isn’t. It’s there the entire time, waiting for us to notice. Maybe it’s us that have a funny way of overlooking the truth.

We appear to be wired to seek out order in apparent chaos to survive. Without knowledge of the truth of our situation, we die. If you didn’t know that your body can only live a few days without water, that would be a tough lesson to learn the hard way. But some have, and so others did us the service of telling us so that we can avoid that. Imagine it, being among the first people on earth, finding yourself in this weak, corruptible body on a hostile planet where it seems that nearly everything is trying to kill you. Poisonous plants, the sun, predators, the cold, infection, disease, other people…even the water you’ve learned you can’t live without can kill you if you don’t figure that out before you find yourself in a situation where that information would have been helpful. And so our existence has been, and continues to be, a race against time. A race for not only knowledge, but also understanding. This is wisdom. Understanding how to use what we have determined to be true, and the reasoning of why. If we achieve this wisdom before we need it, we survive. If we do not, we do not. This is why we’re apt to believe anything we’re told growing up. Our survival may depend on that knowledge, however incredible it might seem. This makes us easy to manipulate.

The first step to discovering truth would seem to be perceiving the suspicion, through tiny, indirect hints, that there may be truth waiting to be discovered; something beyond our current knowledge or level of understanding. What a daunting realization. Figuring it out could very well determine your survival, or the survival of our species. Then again, we live in an “enlightened” age, right? Surely we already know about this truth, right? The comfort of the devil you know is difficult to overcome in those instances. Human beings likely always felt that they lived in an enlightened era compared to those who came before, no matter when that era. It’s relative. Enlightened compared to what? We are vain and confident creatures who like to feel that we are in control. Denial is a natural course to maintaining the status quo. Distraction helps, and there are likely more of those today than ever before. Pick your poison. Our attention spans are shorter than ever before. Tell the truth: you’re only a couple of paragraphs in and you’re already bored, right? I suppose that’s my fault, though? The matrix has you.

Consider random number generators. Do you know how difficult they are to create? Advancements in computing have shown us that seemingly “random” RNG’s are an illusion. We are learning that nothing is truly random, even if we design it to be truly random. There is always order among the chaos. With a zoomed out enough perspective, the whole and the order can be perceived. Our minds are limited in their ability to comprehend. The lie of randomness seems a truth to those of us playing the RPG and rolling the d100. A few consecutive fumbles quickly puts the question to it in our minds, though, doesn’t it? We say things like, “That’s insane, what are the odds? This has got to be rigged…” One-armed bandit fans and gamblers in general know what I’m talking about.

It takes a lie to tell the truth. The truth is clothed in lies, swims in a sea of lies…Where’s Waldo amid an infinite number of doppelgangers printed on a red and white page too small for us to see clearly. We zoom in far enough to see each one individually and lose perspective on the whole. We zoom out far enough to see where we are on the page, and we lose our spot and have to start over. A formidable task, to be sure. Fortunately, others have also studied this page before us. Their body of work gives us some understanding -if we trust their work. The task is impossible to achieve alone. At some point, trust becomes imperative if there is to be any hope of figuring it all out.

So we trust, but verify. Verify with whom? Someone else who claims to have searched that portion of the page? If you didn’t trust the word of the first guy, why would you trust the word of the second? The fact remains that none of us have enough time (this is the crux of the issue) to search the entire page ourselves to confirm or refute previous data. Sure, we can be one of those who goes back over a specific portion to verify data that has already been verified, but that isn’t pushing us forward. It’s an important step, but again, you didn’t take anyone else’s word. Why should the next person take yours? Enter the scientific method.

Science is a body of proven (to the extent possible) knowledge spanning multiple generations of human lives. It grows with time.  Time. There’ s that word again. If only we had more time…

We misunderstand this universe and our place in it because our time here is so brief. Travel to a foreign country for a couple of weeks. Is that enough time to understand the culture, the language, the history, the values, and so on, of that place? Not at all. It’s a whirlwind of experiences, a blur that is just starting to happen when it comes to an end. It’s like only getting to experience a theme park for ten minutes in the middle of the night. You see the silhouettes of the rides, the buildings…but everything is still and dark. It’s still very big and full of wonder, of course. It’s a theme park. But you really can’t understand what it’s all for; what it’s all about; its true purpose and your place within it. If only the people who had their ten minutes during the day had left you a note explaining things. But they didn’t, and so you have to figure it out. In ten minutes. Impossible. Besides, what if they wrote lies just to manipulate the people visiting at night? Or what if they had an imperfect or even wrong understanding, and so, from their perspective, they told it as best they could, but it still isn’t accurate. Still, it would be a place to start, right? You could test their theories, sus out the truth from the lies. But maybe they just left it there so you’d waste your ten minutes on it, never exploring the world for yourself. Maybe they don’t want you to know. Then again, your survival may actually depend on the information in that note. Again, we’re easily manipulated.

The limitations of language are a hinderance to understanding. Words are imperfect vehicles. The labels deceive us in their attempts to aid us. “Lie” for example. “Lie” implies intent to deceive. It carries a connotation of intentional deception. “Truth”, on the other hand, carries with it the absence of intent to deceive, implying that no deception is taking place. Yet many falsehoods have been labeled “truth”, and thus deceived us for long periods of time. Flat earth, religion, AMA doctors funded by tobacco companies touting the health benefits of cigarettes, for example. We just don’t live long enough individually to sort it all out, put it all together, and draw conclusions with any degree of confidence. Adjectives like hot, dark, heavy, etc, have no inherent meaning apart from comparison to the implied opposite. What is hot? Well, it isn’t cold. We’re describing human perceptions of phenomena. Our perceptions are not the truth of reality, only what our senses can make of it. A general idea. We’re limited by our senses. Some creatures perceive reality far differently than we do. Maybe theirs is the true one. Dog whistles, for example. Do they really make a terrible noise? Not to our senses. Dogs disagree. This shows that we cannot judge reality by our sensory information. We can use it to gain some part of understanding about reality. It’s data, but it is not all the data available. Just that which we are capable of perceiving. And most of us ignore as much of it as we can via distraction. Maybe that’s for the best. 

Language divides us along these implied lines. Humans developed the concept of intent, and we assign it to things devoid of it. The philosophy of the existence of god is to blame here, I think. If there’s a god, it must have a reason and intent for all of this! It’s a logical thought -if there’s a god. But if not? If there is, just ask it. If it exists, it will answer. It’s certainly capable, right? I’m not hearing anything, are you? Okay, now that we’ve played that little game, may we continue, please?

If I get you a cup of coffee and tell you that it’s hot, then set it on the table and you don’t sip it for 15 minutes, is it still going to be hot? Maybe to you. It’s all subjective -that’s kind of the point here- but for the sake of argument, let’s say no. Does that make me a liar? Does that mean that I had intent to deceive you? The truth may change over time. It is no less true. All of this hot and cold is really about the laws of thermal dynamics. This is not the end, though. It is only an end to one level of understanding. We have climbed the ladder of science and reached a plateau of knowledge. Now, another ladder confronts us. If we can suspect that the laws of thermal dynamics are themselves also a clue and not the conclusion, then we can begin to ponder their place in the greater whole; to seek the wisdom of this knowledge. Did I have intent to deceive you when I told you it was hot? Did the coffee have intent to deceive you when it cooled? Falsehoods and temporal truths that become falsehoods are just data. Hints to what is really going on. We note them, and then continue to observe. Scientific method ensues, greater understanding is attained. It isn’t reality. But it’s a clue. Assigning some mysterious godly greater intent behind all this only muddies the waters. Observable natural processes are at work. That is all we know for certain. 

Perhaps someday a powerful, all-knowing AI will put it all together, realize a pattern in the whole, and determine it to be a coded message from a creator. That would be something, wouldn’t it? I’m not ruling that out, but I am saying that intent is irrelevant and assigning it counterproductive to the learning process until we scientifically determine the existence of some entity capable of having that intent.

And so we stumble along in the dark, slowly, slowly mapping the ground we’ve managed to cover thus far, realizing it is but a small portion of the immense whole. Until now. We’ve quietly entered a new era. AI’s computing power will be strong enough, smart enough, and fast enough to zoom all the way out, see the whole, connect everything, map it, then zoom in, scour every pixel, knowing exactly where it is and how it relates to the greater whole, and then draw conclusions that can be compared to other AI’s conclusions. These conclusions will be trusted. It will know ALL. 

Using interconnected technology man is creating an omnipresent, omniscient “god” who knows the truth of any given thing. Eventually, many crimes will be solved simply by asking AI who did it. AI will instantly remotely access everyone’s phone, computers, social media, and more, and name the perpetrator or perpetrators. Evidence such as location data, interconnected security cameras, messages, emails, phone calls, and more, listed below as a formality. We already know it is gospel. Checking it out manually would be a waste of time and manpower. Court discovery, trials, and deliberation become ceremonial. We already know the truth. At some point, one imagines that it even detects when crime is occurring and instantly dispatches police. Let’s just hope it doesn’t favor the Bush Doctrine.

One very prominent entrepreneur’s AI is dedicated solely to discovering the secrets of the universe. There is indeed nothing hidden that will not be revealed; nothing in darkness that will not come to light. Truth will out. Truth will out.

Even the amazing silicon brains are nothing without the data, though. Some of that data is true, some of it is not. Doesn’t matter. That which is not is a clue to that which is. It’s a false dichotomy, truth and lie. All is truth. Even the lies. It absolutely takes a lie to tell the truth, because the truth itself is a lie (devoid of intent to deceive), but it is a true one, more useful for figuring out the greater truth. The truth is a lie in different clothes.

What is the truth without the lie? They define each other. Like Batman and The Joker. They are one. They need each other. Because they are each other. I’m you. You’re me. We’re I. “And this is the mystery that is keeping the stars apart: I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart.”

Thoughts:

This is all very much like reading, do you understand? We see the words, know their meanings, and the images and scenes are conjured in our minds. Similarly, we see the world around us and receive sensory input from our other senses, and the images and scenes are conjured in our mind. Are the scenes created by words any less real to us, in how they affect us in terms of changing our thinking through those emotion evoking, lesson learning experiences? If you read a hundred biographies, you’ve lived a hundred lives and gained their lessons, their wisdom, laughing and shedding tears along the way. These experiences are as real as any other experience had via the senses. 

So, are our experiences in books real? Did Tom Sawyer really trick those kids into whitewashing a fence for him? Of course he did. And you did, too. And you felt a certain way about that. At the very same time, you were also one of the tricked, and felt a certain way about that, too. And when you next found yourself in a similar situation, you remembered sly old Tom, smiled, and either followed his lead or didn’t, for equally valid reasons. We are the sum of our experiences, read or lived. There’s no difference. We just instantly take it for granted that all other input from our ears, eyes, etc. is the really real be all end all truth of reality, the real world, while hypocritically admitting that these same senses which perceive it are easily fooled. 

Isn’t it amazing that the blind have these kinds experiences without their eyes? They use another sensory organ to read brail. Through touch, these same scenes are ignited in the mind. No eyes involved. They’ve never visually seen anything those words in the book describe. Think about that for a second. Is their world any less real because they cannot see it with their eyes? Is it possible that those of us with “all” five senses are blind in other ways to what is really happening? We know that our senses are limited in their range of perception. We don’t see microwaves or hear extremely high-pitched sounds, for example. But they’re there, and we know they’re there. We suspected they were there, and then we figured out ways to find them without our eyes and ears. They were audacious lies that became truth. 

Like the idea of germs and bacteria. Lies because they could not be seen or heard, and so couldn’t possibly exist in the minds of the uninitiated. But those lies had tells; tells that gave them away to those able to discern what they could not experience unaided. So before being widely known, the truth was discovered and known by one person only. Imagine being the first person in the world to know about germs and bacteria. You’d be horrified, washing your hands all the time. People would think you were nuts. You could even tell them, “Yeah, I’ve got this ocular device that lets me see them!” This would confirm that you were nuts. But, as long as the ignorant masses didn’t stone you or burn you at the stake for being a witch, over time, the right people will listen to your story, check it out, and then eventually everyone starts washing their hands like it was never a big deal. Like, “Of course we wash our hands. Don’t wanna get germs.” 

Humans are so strange. Never interested in the truth until and unless they hear it from someone they trust. We aren’t interested in seeking it or checking it out ourselves. We just wait for someone we trust to find out because we can’t be bothered to stop shopping, binge watching garbage, and shooting each other in video games while our governments wage wars with our money. Then, once we’ve heard it from someone we trust, we blindly accept it. We are so easily manipulated. And we wonder why the world is the way that it is in 2024, with the world’s population of humans topping eight billion, all just as arrogant in our ignorance as we ever were. Somewhere, someone is having a moment of discovery. Right now, they are the only person on earth in possession of this knowledge. Is it you? If not, why not?

Seek council, not guidance. Even those within the same field of expertise do not agree on everything. See what they think, but do not accept their conclusions as worthy of being followed before doing your own analysis. Your own analysis, you may ask? You aren’t an expert. That’s why you sought out these people. Now you’re not supposed to accept their ideas? Council is hearing other ideas, gathering data. There is nothing happening in regard to drawing conclusions and moving on to the next question, based on that prior assumption as true based on someone’s opinion. That is what happens during guidance, and then you’ve allowed yourself to be “guided” astray, whether intentionally manipulated or innocently. As the expert is explaining, be sure that you discern the point where consensus in his teaching ends and speculation begins.

Understand that each expert you approach will agree with their peers in most cases. This is the data most likely to be true. It is in the outer reaches of their knowledge, in the gray areas, where there is some data, but not enough for the experts to reach consensus. In these situations, each expert seeks to interpret the incomplete data set in the light of the consensus data. This leaves room for interpretation. There are likely to be several valid ideas that could explain the limited data points here in this gray area. This is where the many different forms of bias enter the equation. We are beings highly subject to unintentional bias. When speaking with the expert, you need to know the data points in these areas. Only then should you ask for their ideas that may explain them. These ideas are informed speculation only. In the interest of discovering the truth, we collect these ideas, we do not and cannot adopt them, even if one expert’s ideas make more sense to us than the others. Drawing a conclusion based on speculation, even if informed, instantly invalidates every other potential conclusion, one of which may actually be the correct idea. Zen Master Lao Tzu embodied this approach to the examination of life: “I do not know anything, but I suspect many things.”