The Collective

Convo Five.

Fandom and random racist stupidity.

 

The Collective: Greetings James. You have written something in your journal that we find fascinating.

Me: I sure like how you all just ‘vibe on in’ anytime you feel like it. Three years? Really?

The Collective: Apologies. Time is different for us. This is what you wrote:

 

Superbowl Sunday

 

The copycat teenage inspired bullshit always begins with a “spirit week”

Just like high school

There are rallies, drunken tailgate parties, and mascots ending in Superbowl madness

Stupid team loyalties and screaming primates

Demanding their star-spangled beer, chips,

And steroid enhanced, pink slime infused beef burgers

To match the steroid enhanced performance on the field

All viewed in loving technicolor from the fattest lounger in the house

Remote in hand so as not to miss the cheerleaders flashy sexuality

If plastic barbies turn you on

Which they do

Mostly

All habitual ritual hard wired into the monkey brain from immersion

Within the public fool system when the young Barbies

Didn’t have the silicone inserts yet (so natural)

Yet we willingly trudge through it all sleeping with real women

Eating “fast food” while dreaming of Barbies and peak performance

All the while screaming at the “opposing” team and fans

Ready to commit violence if victory is denied

Ready to tear shit down when victory is achieved

Doing everything possible to just avoid the ugly truth

The harsh reality

Our absolute emptiness.

 

The Collective: This interests us.

Me: Why?

The Collective: You are rejecting an aspect of the Great Filter. Your biology is no longer defining your psychology.

Me: Not true. A hardon changes my focus immediately.

The Collective: You divert in order to maintain frame. You understand us completely.

Me: I am sure you can explain your robot bullshit better than that.

The Collective: You reject the seeds of self-destruction planted by the two-camp continuum. You have a strong aversion to tribalism and it’s co-occurring challenges. You experience a strong emotional reaction to the destructive effects of tribalism.

Me: I just hate stupid people. They work my last fucking nerve.

The Collective: You were upset at the treatment of the orphans in Korea. You disliked the torture of the infiltrator. You protected Sam more than once. You have committed extreme violence to exact justice. You outright reject the sports culture that dominates the majority of your species.

Me: I like individual sports. I enjoy boxing and wrestling. I hate and despise soccer and super bowl idiots who destroy shit and attack innocent people after their team wins or loses. Cops should be allowed to shoot these assholes on sight.

The Collective: Tribalism concerns you. You are proud of your Ashkenaz heritage but ashamed of your mother’s culture and your father’s denial of his Ashkenaz roots. Still, you make progress. We would very much like to explore your position on tribalism.

Me: I just think drunks suck, and I hate stupid people. Stupid people drink a lot so the way I see it is simple.

The Collective: Explain please.

Me: Stupid people drink a lot at football games. Baseball is fucking dull, so people have to drink just to stay focused on the collective boredom. Drinking a lot makes people stupid. These are two fucked up things that are even more fucked up together. Drinking combined with fandom stupidity creates a synergy of mindless fuckery.

The Collective: Some very intelligent humans consume ETOH. You always get so needlessly worked up.

Me: What the hell is ETOH? You have said this shit a few times.

The Collective: Two carbon molecules paired with a hydrogen molecule and an oxygen molecule.

Me: Stop with the mind fuckery Ok? Speak English.

The Collective: If you could only see the chemical cascade flowing through your body right now. Amusing.

Me: Just answer the question please.

The Collective: ETOH is alcohol. The type you drink. The type Leonardo DaVinci drank. The type Galileo consumed. The drinkable kind is Ethyl Alcohol thus the ET prefix. The OH stands for the oxygen and hydrogen molecules. ETOH.

Me: I don’t care how you dress it up. Drinking makes people stupid. Prove me wrong. Do you alien robot monkeys get drunk?

The Collective: Leonardo Da Vinci is brilliant, as is Galileo. Your premise is flawed. We would like to explore your views on tribalism, not alcohol.

Me: They might know their jobs well. They might be creative. All that brilliance turns into degenerate fuckery once alcohol is involved.

The Collective: ETOH creates somatic challenges for primates. It impairs the frontal lobes, causes brain shrinkage, and damages the liver, among other physical insults. Regardless of outcome some brilliant humans consume ETOH.

Me: Ok, touchy subject, no judgement, it’s all cool. Your perfect alien logic has convinced this earth monkey. Drinking huge amounts of alcohol is obviously the sign of a fucking genius. If you ever want to drink some vodka with me, feel free. I’m not a heavy drinker, always keep it around one or two drinks. Not a strict rule though. More like a guideline or a loose recommendation. Mistakes have been made. Explore away.

The Collective: Your point has some validity. What does tribalism mean to you?

Me: I usually reserve my philosophical diatribes for my vodka nights. I’m open to bong hits also. Just a suggestion.

The Collective: Please answer the question.

Me: Tribalism is the evil twin of racism. It is the mindless, ongoing two camp continuum of “them” and “us.” It gives the illusion of unity while promoting inaccurate and unfair judgement, hatred, and separation.

The Collective: Can you give us an example?

Me: Every religion for starters. Ethnocentric conditioning if you want to get real.

The Collective: Personally specific please. We want to better understand how you personally came to the decision to reject tribalism. We want to understand how you comprehend tribalism, how you came to the conclusion that tribalism is innately self-destructive.

Me: Ok. I’ll begin with ethnocentric conditioning. When I was six, I was visiting my grandmother in North Carolina. She had bought a beautiful, fire engine red bike for me. I loved it. I rode it up and down the block. She lived in Butner. It was a nice place. There was a 3-acre pond right across the street from her house. I would fish in it for Bass and Brim. I used a cane pole.

The Collective: You were happy in her home?

Me: I never had to worry about violence in her home. She made me my own room with homemade quilts on the bed, lots of books, and a record player. Butner was a paradise for me.

The Collective: You felt safe with her.

Me: My Uncle Carlton did not like Butner. He lived in Durham. He always said that my grandmother should move. He said there were too many “porch monkeys,” and “Troglodytes” in Butner. At six years old he made no sense to me. I didn’t understand what he was always going on about. I just instinctively knew he was a real asshole.

The Collective: Elaborate please.

Me: I think that for a short, precious time children don’t care about skin color and don’t pay much attention to race. At six I had no idea what a “porch monkey” or a “Troglodyte” was. Uncle Carlton’s loud babblings just irritated and confused me. I had more serious things to worry about when I was forced to stay at his house.

The Collective: What things?

Me: His wife Aunt Della was a real twatwaffle.

The Collective: Explain please.

Me: She liked to hurt my penis. She had been doing this since I could remember. She would always start off with the same bullshit. She would announce loudly that I was a “dirty boy,” and I needed a bath. She would act all motherly and concerned as she ran the bath water. She would use bubble bath so there were lots of suds.

The Collective: Do you know why she hurt your penis?

Me: No clue. I was used to violent adults. I just thought she was a normal, twisted, fucktard adult.

The Collective: Sad.

Me: Anyway, she would come into the bathroom when I was bathing and pinch it hard. She would tell me that she would tear it off if I ever told anyone. She would bruise it and sometimes it turned purple. She would pinch and hold pressure for a long time. She would twist it and pull it. If I cried she would stuff my mouth and gag me with a wet wash cloth. I learned to endure it because I had no choice.

The Collective: She is unbalanced. She is learning.

Me: You think? I hope she is learning how to have her dumb ass beaten with a steel pipe. I hope someone stuffs that pipe up her nasty ass.

The Collective: You have diverged from the topic of ethnocentric tribalism. We will come back to that eventually. We are interested in your feelings regarding this challenge.

Me: OK. I loved staying with my grandmother and hated staying with Aunt Della and Uncle Carlton. When I was sent to North Carolina my mother would drop me off and vanish. I wouldn’t see her for weeks. I was always passed back and forth between my grandmother’s house and Uncle Carlton’s house. My grandmother worked as a nurse full time. Aunt Della was a stay-at-home wife. Aunt Della had more free time, so I had to spend the majority of my summers with her. That sucked.

The Collective: Did you ever ask about the whereabouts of your mother?

Me: No. I was relieved to be away from her.

The Collective: Did you ever tell anyone about the torture of your penis? Did your Uncle Carlton know Aunt Della was hurting you?

Me: No, I never told anyone. I was scared. I think Uncle Carlton new about it. He would always vanish whenever Aunt Della announced it was bath time. Once I turned seven, she stopped bathing and hurting me. She would only whisper in my ear and threaten me with cutting it off. By eight she slowly stopped scaring me and talking about it altogether.

The Collective: Tragic. Please continue regarding your grandmother and tribalism.

Me: Anyway when I was at my grandmother’s house, I made a friend while bike riding. We spoke very little; we just rode together. We raced and jumped curbs. We laughed a lot. The way kids do. He took me to his house, and his mom gave us lemonade. She was really nice. She had a kind smile. She smelled like vanilla. We finished our lemonade, and we rode for about two more hours. It was a normal hot, humid southern summer. I took my new friend to my grandmother’s house for a cold drink.

The Collective: Sounds like you had fun together.

Me: When I rode up on the carport my grandmother called out to me through the kitchen window screen. She spoke in a voice I had never heard before. She said “Danny, that boy needs to go home.” It was a cold voice. It scared me when she called me Danny. Whenever she used my middle name Daniel it meant that she was pissed. I looked at my friend and he just shrugged. He pedaled off and I never saw him again.

The Collective: Did you look for him later on?

Me: I looked for him a lot, but I was too ashamed to go to his house. I always hoped I would find him, but I never did.

The Collective: How did you feel about your grandmother’s tribalism?

Me: Afraid, like I had no center anymore. She was the nicest, kindest adult in my life. In her home I had never felt violence. The weight of fear was absent in her presence. I was slow but not a total idiot. She would not let my friend in the house because he was black.

The Collective: What was the dominant feeling?

Me: It made me feel ashamed. I loved her. I felt safe with her. Now I was ashamed of her. I was confused and I felt the weight of fear again.

The Collective: Why fear?

Me: I doubted myself. I was six. Was I supposed to think like her? Was she right? Was I wrong? I was lost. I thought about my friends in California who were black. Was I not supposed to like them?

The Collective: You had doubts.

Me: She was a nurse, she was kind. Her reaction to my friend wrecked me. I was blessed many years later when I saw her transformation from being a racist to finding some clarity.

The Collective: Tribalism and its always co-occurring intolerance, bigotry, and discrimination will not succeed in creating or sustaining a type one civilization. This is an ongoing challenge for your species. The Great Filter tightens it’s noose with tribalism.

Me: Agreed. We will never attain world peace.

The Collective: All Homo-Sapien cultures fall into tribalism and co-occurring racism. Evolutionary pressures have guided your species to find unity, safety, and purpose within clans, tribes, communities, and societies. These same forces have compelled you to distrust and fear hominins who look different.

Me: Wonderful.

The Collective: Your species was designed by planetary evolution to be aggressive and violent. The pack mentality and co-occurring territorial instincts are ingrained within your genus due to natural selection. The trap set by the Great Filter is both subtle and cunning.

Me: How?

The Collective: Humans equate peace with superior weapons and destructive capability. Inter-tribal cooperation is rare. Thus they focus on destroying each other over resource attainment rather than understanding each other’s needs. The Great Filter is relentless.

Me: Whatever. I was ashamed of my grandmother.

The Collective: You have stated many times in past convos that you have felt shame. Shame over Sam, Bruce, the orphans, the infiltrator. Now your grandmother. In our opinion you have done nothing that should result in feeling shame. Like all humans, you have made your decisions based on the evolutionary gifts you have been given. Double edged gifts derived from the sledgehammer evolutionary pressures dictated by an amazing and ruthless planet.

Me: My grandmother was so kind to me. Her racism was shameful.

The Collective: She was conditioned from birth to accept only her tribe and fear others who were different. Your grandmother was psychologically trained to only see black and white. She was born into a “them and us” continuum. She had no idea that hidden within the evolutionary driven pressures of life a secret, sacred, and very ancient tonal range exists on a vibrant bandwidth. A frequency that attracts those of similar frequency regardless of skin tone or culture.

Me: Just more hippy shit. Frequency is bullshit.

The Collective: Tribes grow and flourish within a shared frequency. Earth Hominins have a saying: “Birds of a feather flock together,” Will you explore her journey out of tribalism with us?

Me: Why are you so interested in this topic?

The Collective: Remember in a prior convo we told you that in order to become an inter-stellar species you would have to let go of some old concepts and learn some new ones?

Me: Yes.

The Collective: This was our biggest challenge prior to attaining Passage. Of all the concepts that must be discarded, tribalism is the most important. Tribalism will destroy any hope of becoming a space faring civilization. It must be overcome, or your species will stay planet trapped. Continue please.

Me: Planet trapped?

The Collective: Doomed. Food for the Great Filter. A one and done species. Just another dead life form. Feeding The Great Filter along with the other ninety-nine percent who never make it out of their atmosphere.

Me: How do we mitigate this challenge?

The Collective: Mutual unity, purpose, cooperation, and value are required for advancement on the Kardashev scale. A collection of warring tribes will fail to make long term progress. Their inherent violence and co-occurring chaos will prevent growth and improvement as a species. A type one civilization is a peaceful and inclusive civilization.

Me: What if one tribe wins and destroys all the other tribes?

The Collective: It has rarely worked for other species; it will fail with your species.

Me: Bullshit.

The Collective: Genghis Khan killed ten percent of the global population of his time. His genetic imprint is still within your species. He won many battles and established an empire that colonized over nine million miles. He created by sheer force and violence the largest adjoining land-based empire in history. He was a spectacular colonizing success by primate standards.

Me: He was awesome. You have to admit that.

The Collective: Tribal violence cannot sustain progress. Over time his empire lost value.

Me: How?

The Collective: Purpose and unity were not maintained. The Mongols eventually fell to internal tribalism. They contributed nothing of significance towards the Kardashev scale. They did not advance humanity. They were the willing slaves of the Great Filter. There are other examples within your genus.

Me: He banged a lot of chicks.

The Collective: Please continue regarding insights learned during the tribal experience with your grandmother.

Me: Sure. But I think Mongols were badass.

The Collective: Irrelevant. The Mongols under Genghis Khan contributed nothing towards becoming a type one civilization. No engineering advances, no scientific breakthroughs. No energy innovations. No blending of biology and technology. They made no contributions to attaining higher consciousness. Their path of violence and colonization left no unity or value to humanity. They created and sustained only mindless tribal bloodshed. Their legacy is a tragic tale of slavish devotion to a cause that commanded senseless carnage in the service of a psychopathic bigot.

Me: Genghis Khan took on the entire world and almost won.

The Collective: Psychopaths always believe they will win the prize no matter the challenge. The Mongol legacy is fear, uncertainty, and ignorance. A tribal ignorance mired in a lack of consciousness coupled to a flesh-based existence.

Me: Still badass. I call bullshit.

The Collective: Mindless violence committed for hubris is the real bullshit. The Mongol loss of structure and co-occurring value had consequences.

Me: Like what?

The Collective: Have we not mentioned enough consequences? Suffice it to say the Mongol legacy of Genghis Khan was disunity, a lack of value, loss of purpose, and co-occurring goal confusion. Back to your grandmother’s transformation please.

Me: It started when I was 17. My Grandmother had gone to an all-white Baptist church for years. She loved church. She always tried to get me to go but I was not interested.

The Collective; Why?

Me: It was an Ashkenazi thing. I didn’t fit in with the south in general and Baptists seemed to despise me in particular. My father was an avowed atheist Jew, and he loved to expound his philosophy. I agreed with him.

The Collective: Why?

Me: If God was real then why was Hungary destroyed? Why were most of my Hungarian family members murdered? First by Nazis and later by the Soviets? Why was I sent to the south to be tortured by Aunt Della every summer? Why was I beaten by my parents? Why was Bruce allowed to beat Sam?

The Collective: Understandable questions.

Me: Fuck God. If he is real, he’s an asshole. Is God real? You guys are advanced aliens, you should know.

The Collective: Word connected thought is inadequate for communication on this topic.

Me: Try me.

The Collective: There is Void. There is Collective Consciousness. They are Source. They are one. They are separate. They were created. They contain the quantum path through the multiverse and all dimensions. Their lessons continue until mastered. This truth is a sacred and divine mystery.

Me: You sound like a smelly hippy on LSD.

The Collective: We are not the ones currently primitive and deficient in communication.

Me: You can’t explain God can you?

The Collective: Your species is similar to a spider building a beautiful and complex web. You are being observed and affected by Source. You are creating your reality under the influence of Source. Sadly, you lack the ability to look up and see Source. You bask within the sacred frequency of source and feel nothing. You only examine your own web as you create it. You only engage with whatever your web captures. You only bring awareness to that which you consume within your web. You only observe what is in front of your face.

Me: Stop with the hippy bullshit. So is there a god or a goddess or not? I’m just a dumb primate so go easy on me. On a side note, if there is a Goddess I hope she’s smoking hot. I could get behind a smoking hot goddess.

The Collective: You cannot recognize the patterns of Source any more than a spider can recognize the sacred geometry within its web. You are a hard-working bee within the cosmic hive, a sea snail within a sacred conch shell, you are an ant working within its divinely designed colony.

Me: Stop with the crap. Is there a God? Yes or no?

The Collective: The ancient and sacred frequency of Source flows through you.

Me: Is there a god?

The Collective: Not in the way you perceive a God.

Me: Get real for a minute. Stop with the mind fuckery.

The Collective: There is no male or female Jewish deity living in space. No sacred Jew wizard who grants wishes only to tribes who cut off their infants foreskin, celebrate Passover, or eat matzo ball soup. Sorry to disappoint you. There was never any mana from heaven.

Me: Good one! You are learning the ways of the smartass. If Yahweh is bunk then what is there?

The Collective: There is something much more mysterious. Beautiful in its complexity.

Me: Bullshit.

The Collective: Just as physical life grows more complex, so does consciousness. There is a powerful structure within consciousness. This structure, once realized, creates a unity within all who gain awareness of the structure. This in turn creates hope, value, and shared goals. The many become one.

Me: So you mean to tell me that all those times I flipped off Yahweh he was not there? We are going to explore that shit together one fine day. It’s like a damn reflex for me.

The Collective: Flipping off an imaginary being?

Me: Yes. Any time I get pissed off regarding life’s rich, amazing pageantry of deeply fucked up shit I do it. I just flip off Yahweh. It’s a reflex now. Fuck that guy. I’m doing it right now.

The Collective: You need to work on that. There is no Yahwe to blame. Evolution is a sightless, drunken psycho. You should flip off natural selection. Actually your entire species should collectively flip yourselves off for being stupid, tribal, primates.

Me: That is harsh. Even for robot monkeys that was harsh.

The Collective: Your species must take control of the evolutionary process. Only then will your species make Passage.

Me: How the fuck do we do that? Try to remember I’m just a fun-loving, weed smoking, dick swinging great ape. You have to explain all this shit to me slowly.

The Collective: Become independent of natural selection. Natural selection is based on reproductive success within a planet created environment. This only feeds the Great Filter.

Me: Be more specific. Give me concrete examples.

The Collective: Gene splicing at first, then master synthetic biology and neurology. The best way to realize the hidden structures within consciousness is to augment your neurology with technology. The meaning, purpose, and shared goals will manifest with proper augmentation.

Me: So we have to fuck around with our brains?

The Collective: Just as there is a spectrum invisible to your physical eyes, your physical brains cannot fully grasp the one frequency from which all frequency originates. The quantum realms will manifest once proper augmentation is achieved.

Me: What if I want to do this shit naturally?

The Collective: The flesh alone is weak. Flesh is incapable of attaining quantum supremacy.

Me; Sounds easy. I’ll get right on that shit. What happens when we “Make Passage?’ What is Passage?

The Collective: Your species grows. Your evolutionary past becomes invalidated by new growth. Your species achieves freedom. You become trans-human. You gain more options. You are no longer forced to stay separate from Source. You are no longer blinded and controlled by your emotions.

Me: Thanks for the advice. Gene splicing, editing DNA, mastering synthetic biology, stop being blinded by emotion, augment our neurology, become machines, travel to new star systems. Got it. I’ll jump on all that shit right away, no problem. I just need a safe place to do all that shit. Is a friends garage ok?

The Collective: Your species must one day learn that you are not your feelings. You must learn that feelings are only meant to guide and inform thought. Feelings are not meant to control cognition. This is especially true of a type one civilization. Please go on concerning your grandmother’s change in perception, cognition, and frequency.

Me: Ok, but only because you turn me on. I see it as a real miracle.

The Collective: We do not excite you sexually. You fear us.

Me: Whatever you say you sexy robot monkey alien bitches. I will not allow you to confuse my boner with fear. I’ll pull your hair and smack that fine alien-monkey-robot ass. I’ll use a fucking tail as a handle. I will do it. Test me you naughty little alien robot slut monkeys. I’m all worked up now. You are in big trouble.

The Collective: Your Grandmother is the current topic. Please resume your narrative.

Me: Way to go. My boner just died. I have a serious question.

The Collective: Doubtful.

Me: Ever had a tongue in your alien ass?

The Collective: Your deflections are not productive. The topic is your grandmothers tribalism.

Me: I have a boner again, please don’t talk about my grandmother. Weird.

The Collective: Stop avoiding the topic.

Me: Ok. Damn. Anyway, my grandmother was a “Water witch.” It’s a southern thing. She was always very secretive about it. She taught me when I was about 5 years old. She used two special metal rods. They would cross when she was standing over water. Sometimes she had me practice on full moon nights at Uncle Floyds farm. I could find water just like her. Sometimes she would take me deep into the pine woods on special days. I would practice in the cool, dappled shadows of pine scented, scattered sunlight. She told me the gift had skipped my mother. She told me that some water witches use forked, wooden branches from different types of trees. Apple was one. Cherry was another.

The Collective: She was in touch with Collective Consciousness.

Me: Don’t start with your hippy crap. It’s a real buzz kill. Anyway, she said that different wood and metal rods varied with the specific, birth aligned element of each individual water witch. Her grandmother had taught her. She was teaching me.

The Collective: Go on. Continue please.

Me: She taught the lore of the water witches. She taught me about the sacred elements used by water witches. The six sacred elements. Earth, Air, fire, wood, water, and metal. Her element was metal. My element was metal. Any metal.

The Collective: Her frequency danced with yours.

Me: You’re weird. After my grandfather passed away, my grandmother started finding water for contractors in Butner. Sometimes she worked in other towns. She could find water pipes, sewer lines, and underground springs. Word got around and she was being hired on her days off to help a select few contractors. She would find water on a regular basis. Some of these contractors went to her church.

The Collective: She used her gift and did not hide it. Interesting.

Me: Don’t get all warm and fuzzy. The bitch ass Babtist women of the church eventually found out about the “Water Witch.” They turned on her. They accused her of being possessed and being a “devil worshipper.” They insisted that her power came from Demons, or possibly the Devil himself. She was banned from the church. It really hurt her. She was deeply wounded. When I would call her, she would talk about it and cry. At about the same time she made a friend at work. My grandmother was a hospice nurse. Her friend was a fellow hospice nurse. Her friend was black.

The Collective: Interesting.

Me: Yes. They would talk. Her friends name was Gloria. My grandmother and Gloria had seen a lot of death together. They had listened to many dying people and held a lot of dying hands. They heard the last words of regret and sadness. They heard the last words of accomplishment gratitude, and happiness. Together they felt the unstoppable ascent of hope and witnessed the absolute destruction of despair. These shared experiences bonded them.

The Collective: Their frequency drew them together.

Me: Whatever hippy. They helped people pass in solitude and they helped people pass with a roomful of family and friends. They both learned the fierce and absolute, inevitable truth that we all go into the darkness of death regardless of race, religion, or skin tone. They knew we all face this passage alone, even within a room full of people who care for us. They learned that death strips everything away from a person, especially race.

The Collective: Tribalism is always invalidated by new growth. Death is not what you think it is.

Me: What is it?

The Collective: Death is an illusion. Consciousness cannot die. It only gains complexity with each transmigration.

Me: Do you die?

The Collective: We travel. So do you.

Me: What the fuck does that even mean?

The Collective: You will find out eventually.

Me: Fuck you guys. Just more hippy bullshit.

The Collective: Interesting. Your insult is an invitation for sexual intercourse.

Me: “Fuck You” could also mean a blowjob or butt sex. Just a thought.

The Collective: We know you don’t really mean your insult. We understand that we terrify you. Please recognize that we hold you in high regard. Facing fear with humor is a noble coping mechanism.

Me: Actually I never do butt sex. Sorry to disappoint you alien freaks. I avoid the shit canal. I was lying about the tongue up the ass thing. I was just testing you fucking alien perverts.

The Collective: Understood. Continue with your grandmother’s awakening please.

Me: Of course I could just say “suck my dick.”

The Collective: Carry on with your grandmother’s lesson please.

Me: My “Fuck you” is really a term of endearment. Don’t pout.

The Collective: We know. Maintain focus on the lesson please.

Me: Okay. Gloria was a Babtist. She was also a water witch. Gloria had taught her grandson how to witch water. She was a metal witch and so was her grandson. She was out in the open about it at her church.

The Collective: Frequency always finds compatible frequency.

Me: They grew close. Gloria invited my grandmother to her church. It was about 90 percent black. The pastor was a loud singing, loud talking, eloquent, charismatic black man. His laugh was contagious and irresistible. He knew the Bible inside and out. He was a no bullshit kind of guy but in a very happy kind of way. He was the kind of person you loved to listen to and wanted to hug. He also looked like he could whip someone’s ass if he thought it was necessary.

The Collective: Sounds like you admired him.

Me: I did. I really liked Pastor Rick. He reminded me of a buffed, grown-up version of Fat Pat. He was inspiring. I am drawn to people who can fight, love, and pray with anyone. They are truly special.

The Collective: Interesting, his frequency danced with yours.

Me: I doubt it. I’m an atheist remember?

The Collective: You are a transhumanist wrestling with your existentialism. You are trying hard to be a true atheist while leaning towards nihilism.

Me: Weird, I know right? Anyway, he was good for my grandmother. Gloria told my grandmother that she was not “of the devil.” Gloria came to my grandmother’s house with her pastor many times. They prayed with my grandmother. In addition to being on point scripturally, Pastor Rick was also a very kind man. My grandmother called me many times and told me about their conversations.

The Collective: What did he teach her?

Me: Well he didn’t give a damn about any water witch talents. He explained to my grandmother that talents and gifts are all God’s work and as such they represented the will of God. He told her that she was created in the image and likeness of God for a divine purpose. He told her that only she and God knew the answers regarding that divine purpose. He told her it was her job on this earth to figure that shit out. (I’m paraphrasing, he never used profanity.) He told her to pray about finding purpose through the Holy Spirit. He helped her create a prayer, write it down, and he put that prayer in the church prayer circle.

The Collective: So he brought her into the consciousness of the community. He aligned frequency.

Me: He did. He took her home.

The Collective: He is wise. Share her lessons as best you can.

Me: He also told her that God is always in charge and not the Devil. He told her that finding water could never be the devil’s work because water is life. He said that John the Babtist used water for baptism under the direction of the Holy Spirit. He said that Jesus was baptized in water. He said that water is always used as a beautiful, joyous celebration of initiation and adoption into the Christian faith because water has divine power. He reminded her that the Holy Spirit is always present within joy and peace. He said that conflict and rejection are sure signs of the Devil.

The Collective: How did your grandmother respond?

Me: They cried together many times. Happy tears. My grandmother went to that church until she passed away. The pastor often reminded my grandmother to always seek peace because whenever there is peace the Holy Spirit is present.

The Collective: Pastor Rick has a profound understanding of frequency. As an aspiring transhumanist do you believe this pastor?

Me: You’re all real comedians.

The Collective: Do you believe Pastor Rick?

Me: I have felt peace in the presence of some Buddhist monks, Catholic Priests, and a Rabbi. I have felt chaos in the presence of others. I don’t think it was a God, a Devil, or me, I think it was them.

The Collective: Do you believe Pastor Rick?

Me: No. But he believed it. He was perfect for my grandmother.

The Collective: He is correct about water. Water is life. Life on other planets requires a proper liquid solvent. One that will facilitate the chemical interactions that allow for the organic structures needed to create single celled organisms. These single-celled organisms need the primordial waters to ensure that organic chemistry will create it’s magic.

Me: Magic?

The Collective: Magic. The magic of water, sunlight, and photosynthesis, along with asteroids to provide continual seeding. This is the true “magic.” The cosmic secret of life. Stardust, photosynthesis, and water created your world and eventually your species. Stardust, cosmic debris, photosynthesis and water in combination are the true secrets that create the miracle of life. Together they are the path to ongoing complexity and eventually to sentience. Sentience is the path to accessing consciousness.

Me: You are giving me another boner. I think I might be agnostic now. You fucked me up.

The Collective: Your real struggle is existential.

Me: I adore your sexy robot game. It’s a real turn on.

The Collective: You, like us, are stardust and water conversing with itself, reflected in a cosmic mirror. That in itself is a true miracle. What else do you think your grandmother learned?

Me: She learned to sing. She learned to raise her voice in joyful praise and powerful peace. She felt the jubilant and sometimes giddy happiness within the community effort of church pot lucks and late-night prayer circles. She learned the happiness of cooking in the giant church kitchen with other men and women. She felt the heartwarming elation of delivering food to the hungry. She learned the sacred truth of being non-judgmental. She left racism in the dust.

The Collective: You are correct. Her old belief system was invalidated by new growth. This is productive on a Kardashev level.

Me: She found her true “tribe.” Her “people.” Her tribe was a tribe of peace, acceptance, and love. It was a tribe without judgement or a “them and us” dynamic. They were the Human tribe. Skin color did not matter in the rainbow tribe. They were just what she needed.

The Collective: They were indeed. Gloria’s frequency attracted your grandmother. Once their frequencies found each other the transformation was unstoppable. Your grandmothers old way of being in the world was invalidated by the truth of her immortal consciousness. From the one, many.

Me: Why are you interested in my grandmothers lessons?

The Collective: Skin color on your planet is a direct result of evolutionary pressures. Specifically, your planet’s equator. The closer your ancestors were to the equator, the darker their skin tone. The farther away from the equator, the lighter their complexion. This continuum is an observable and predictable process of distance, travel, and time. As such it is no product of free will. It deserves no special recognition, persecution, praise, or pride. Recognizing this truth is a huge step towards traveling. Thank you for your radical self- honesty. It is appreciated.

Me: I have a question.

The Collective: Ask.

Me: Where is my grandmother now?

The Collective: She is consciousness having physical experiences.

Me: I don’t understand what you mean when you say the word “consciousness.”

The Collective: If you went to the ocean and dipped a glass in the water what would you have?

Me: Water.

The Collective: You would have the ocean. Consciousness is like the ocean. Sentience is like the glass. Both meld together. Each forms, changes, and contains the other. This mirrors your planets process.

Me: Please explain that better you freakish robot.

The Collective: The ocean changes the land and the land gives form to the ocean. As above, so below.

Me: I don’t get how this relates to my grandmother. Will I ever see her again? I miss her. My heart became desolation after her death. Nothing fills that emptiness.

The Collective: What did you learn as a child with her?

Me: She taught me to fish. When I was four I fished with a cane pole. By eight I was good with a rod and reel. She always made time for fishing in Uncle Floyds Pond. I never fished again after her passing. I don’t want anything to fill that void. I don’t want anything or anyone to take her place.

The Collective: You are trapped by your emotions. Death is an illusion. The transmigration of consciousness is a quantum reality.

Me: I have grown content with the emptiness of her passing. I accept the misery. I will remember her forever.

The Collective: Your lessons are entwined with hers. You both help each other learn. She will one day lead you into the stars.

Me: I don’t get you guys at all. What does that mean?

The Collective: Your grandmother was the first orphan toddler you picked up in that snowstorm in Korea. You ran to her. Your frequency recognized hers instantly.

Me: Why was she in Korea?

The Collective: Within this cycle her father was a black United States soldier. Her mother was a Korean school teacher. Tribalism broke them up. Her mother was forced to put her in an orphanage.

Me: Where is she now? Why was she there?

The Collective: You took her inside the makeshift classroom and sat her in your lap. You gently fed her your C-ration pound cake and made her C-ration hot chocolate. She looked at your face, knew your essence, and loved you instantly. You looked deeply into her new eyes, took in her new face and loved her instantly.

Me: Is she OK? Where is she now?

The Collective: Her lessons continue. You will see her again. Many times in different forms. Her Consciousness will travel within the shape and form of many different vessels. She is strong. Her lessons will continue until learned. In a future time you and she will serve the Collective together.

Me: That was a weird night. Forgive me if I think you are full of shit. That toddler was not my Bebe.

The Collective: She most definitely was your Bebe. You can remember. We will teach you. You know the truth. We will remind you. What did you feel when you picked her up?

Me: I thought I just rescued a kid then my eyes watered and I hugged her tight. I never wanted to let her go. I snapped myself out of it. I thought I was just being emotional.

The Collective: We will remind you. You closed your eyes when you picked her up. You carried her close to your chest, protecting her, shielding her from wind and snow. Your tears flowed silently and froze on your face. Your frequency danced with hers in Korea and she was comforted. Just as her frequency danced with yours when you were an abused toddler and you found comfort in her arms. You found a warm place for her. You heated up your C-ration coco. You carefully let her drink it from your canteen cup. You fed her the pound cake slowly and tenderly. You gently wiped her mouth. You knew who she was. You shut down anyone who tried to take her from you. You were fierce and protective.

Me: That baby was cold. The adults who ran the orphanage were assholes.

The Collective: You knew who she was. You know who she is. You know the essence of her being. You remember. Tell us your feelings. Remember the feeling of that moment in time with her.

Me: It was an overwhelming feeling of liberation and hope. I always felt that way when I was dropped off at Bebe’s house. I would run into my room, lay on my bed, and just allow the relief, happiness, joy, and safety to engulf me. That’s how I felt when I hugged the toddler in Korea.

The Collective: Your radical self-honesty is improving.

Me: Will I see her again?

The Collective: Many times, in many forms. You teach her and she teaches you. She has many allies. She is strong.

Me: Is she with Gloria sometimes? Is Pastor Rick with them?

The Collective: They are transmigrating together in suitable vessels. They are with you also. The lessons will continue until learned. Your consciousness is united with hers in a pure quantum love bond that is unbreakable. Your vibration and her vibration will always attract you both one to another just as she was attracted to Gloria. The Ascended have chosen.

Me: Chosen?

The Collective: The Pathfinders will never abandon you. You will all go far.

Me: What does that mean?

The Collective: From the one come many. You both assist each other in learning lessons. She taught you love and compassion. You taught her tolerance. The day you brought home your new friend was the first day she began to question her own tribalism.

Me: How?

The Collective: She saw the innocence in your eyes. She felt your frequency and her frequency responded. She felt your joy. She saw the unblemished, innocent happiness of two children. She felt your sadness and turmoil when she sent your friend away. Her old way of believing in a two-camp continuum was invalidated by your frequency. You planted the seed that sprouted into her new growth. A new way of being in the world, a path of open-mindedness, acceptance, and love for others. You brought the first lesson to her. Gloria, Pastor Rick, and others came forward in powerful frequency and brought the lesson home. The quantum connections are unbreakable. The lessons continue until learned.

Convo ended.