The Lucid Stream is now fully functional. Because you cannot get to where you want to go unless you know precisely where you are.
And this is the great noontide: it is when man stands at the middle of his course between animal and Superman, and celebrates his journey to the evening as his highest hope, for it is the journey to a new morning.
QUESTION OF THE DECADES
How can you convince somebody that not only does an alternate reality exist, but that they are the one in it?
When a sleeper sleeps, he may sometimes become lucid in his dream. He will remain in his dream but will suddenly become aware he is dreaming. At this moment, he can begin testing the bounds of the pseudo-reality he has found himself in. A sleeper is jolted into this position of being conscious of his dream state by noticing details in his dream that do not match with what he knows about reality. He may look at his reflection and get a shock that it does not appear as it should. He may look at a clock and become baffled by the unregulated movements of the hands. He may flick a light switch or throw a ball and discover some erratic physics he knows to be wrong. At this moment, his consciousness is unavoidably lit and he is awake, inside his dream. He can train himself to regularly enter this state of lucid dreaming, by habitually questioning reality during his waking moments. He might look at his hands every few hours and ask himself if he is awake or dreaming. Through repeated prompts, he soon learns how to question his nightly fantasyland and wake up his critical consciousness at the all-important moment.
It is all too clear, when moving among the broad masses, that many people appear to be awake, walking around just like regular people, conducting conversations, purchasing and consuming, but they remain oblivious to the state of reality around them. To compel such a sleeper to question the assumptions of his pseudo-reality, with simple reality checks that arouse his curiosity, we have the dual tools of statements and questions. We are all familiar with making a great many statements, and one can easily get carried away and never pause to raise questions or listen to the answers. However, asking the right questions at the right time is the world’s most valuable skill. Is it not? If you listen closely to someone talk, they will express their worldview in everything they say. By listening closely, you can assess the nature of the artificial pseudo-reality they have constructed around their fragile Self, to protect themselves from the harsh laws of nature and brutal facts of life. They use pop culture, sugary censored media, tasty lies, simple denial or active avoidance, and unquestioning obedience to the Critical Theory / Cultural Marxist slop the Established Brands feed them during their every waking moment. If you listen closely, you can identify with crisp accuracy the many hypocrisies and unfounded statements that prop up his phony worldview. At the right time, you can point them out the incongruities and demand explanation. Every sleeper’s worldview is rife with fakery, posings, and dumboisms. If you can spot the holes in his worldview, and force him to fill them with true information in place of fantasy and emotional guesswork, our societies may have a chance, our ship may not sink, perhaps. It is perhaps 5 in 100 people who are brainwashed beyond repair and forever trapped in their fake dream world. For the rest, there is always hope – if they are compelled to ask themselves the right questions. The Great Awakening of the Western Man. If this process is done in a loving way, or in a ferocious way, is less important than whether it is done or not done. It must be done.
A considerable percentage of the people we meet on the street are people who are empty inside, that is, they are actually already dead. It is fortunate for us that we do not see and do not know it. If we knew what number of people are actually dead and what a number of these dead people govern our lives, we should go mad with horror.
If somebody wants to go about their life consuming nothing but lies, and acting to bring about disaster by being so divorced from true reality, if this is what they want then they are more than catered for by the Deception Industries. The Deception Industries and their many mouthpieces are hard at work dismantling the Western World, and censoring its intellectual achievements, and brainwashing its children into a cult of lies and idiocy.
The Regime has a firm grip on almost all information flows—radio, television, newspapers, search engines, book publishers, movie studios, academic publishing and the universities, ad agencies—their control of what the broad masses see on a daily basis is total and complete. Unless a mindless sleeping citizen is prompted awake by some existential crisis or by a persistent neighbour causing such an existential crisis through questioning, they will be perfectly content to remain sleeping at the wheel and drive the entire Western project off the cliff and into the abyss.
Europe is committing suicide. Or at least its leaders have decided to commit suicide. Whether the European people choose to go along with this is, naturally, another matter.
THINGS YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE MISSED
“Pornographer Investigated by Police for Refusing to Have Sex With a Man Pretending to be a Woman” is exactly the type of Weimar headline capable of sparking a lucid jolt awake for the man of modernity trapped in his living nightmare. How many eye-opening reality-defying liberal-world-has-gone-off-the-rails stories will it take for your friends and neighbors to realise something is deeply in need of correction in the Western World? At what point does the present course become utterly indefensible, even for the most ardent supporter of blind “progress”? We must find out the answer to this question.
Mexico is flying people back to India
The UN is flying Ethiopians in to Germany
While most of the political and cultural leaders across the West seem to be trying to delete Western Civilization as fast as possible with upside downity, some sanity is prevailing some of the time in some of the places.
Meanwhile in Russia…
Relevant Flashback:
Europe today has little desire to reproduce itself, fight for itself or even take its own side in an argument. By the end of the lifespans of most people currently alive, Europe will not be Europe and the peoples of Europe will have lost the only place in the world we had to call home.
ETERNAL REBELLION: The Straight White Male
One of the co-founders of Extinction Rebellion readily admits the movement is not about climate but is entirely about dismantling the patriarchy, rejecting Eurocentrism and correcting racism, and focussing society more on homosexuality. These are the real stated goals, and the movement has nothing to do with climate – once again a leftist movement is using a globalist issue as the cover for an attack on the dreaded… straight white male. And nobody is surprised.
The co-founder spells it all out quite clearly:
Extinction Rebellion have been protesting all over, bringing transportation to a halt, and their media representatives cannot explain why:
The ragtag group of misfit globalist activists will achieve their goals by dramatically arresting broccolis:
If their concerns were pollution and emissions, they are of course protesting in the wrong place, but this is by design because, as has been admitted, the target is not gas or plastic. The SWM is, as usual, their true target.
WATCHING OF THE WEEK
FROM THE RED PILL FACT BOOK
SHARE THE TRUTH
Make some people start asking questions
POEMS OF THE WEEK
The seafarer
by Ezra Pound
May I for my own self song’s truth reckon,
Journey’s jargon, how I in harsh days
Hardship endured oft.
Bitter breast-cares have I abided,
Known on my keel many a care’s hold,
And dire sea-surge, and there I oft spent
Narrow nightwatch nigh the ship’s head
While she tossed close to cliffs. Coldly afflicted,
My feet were by frost benumbed.
Chill its chains are; chafing sighs
Hew my heart round and hunger begot
Mere-weary mood. Lest man know not
That he on dry land loveliest liveth,
List how I, care-wretched, on ice-cold sea,
Weathered the winter, wretched outcast
Deprived of my kinsmen;
Hung with hard ice-flakes, where hail-scur flew,
There I heard naught save the harsh sea
And ice-cold wave, at whiles the swan cries,
Did for my games the gannet’s clamour,
Sea-fowls, loudness was for me laughter,
The mews’ singing all my mead-drink.
Storms, on the stone-cliffs beaten, fell on the stern
In icy feathers; full oft the eagle screamed
With spray on his pinion.
Not any protector
May make merry man faring needy.
This he little believes, who aye in winsome life
Abides ‘mid burghers some heavy business,
Wealthy and wine-flushed, how I weary oft
Must bide above brine.
Neareth nightshade, snoweth from north,
Frost froze the land, hail fell on earth then
Corn of the coldest. Nathless there knocketh now
The heart’s thought that I on high streams
The salt-wavy tumult traverse alone.
Moaneth alway my mind’s lust
That I fare forth, that I afar hence
Seek out a foreign fastness.
For this there’s no mood-lofty man over earth’s midst,
Not though he be given his good, but will have in his youth greed;
Nor his deed to the daring, nor his king to the faithful
But shall have his sorrow for sea-fare
Whatever his lord will.
He hath not heart for harping, nor in ring-having
Nor winsomeness to wife, nor world’s delight
Nor any whit else save the wave’s slash,
Yet longing comes upon him to fare forth on the water.
Bosque taketh blossom, cometh beauty of berries,
Fields to fairness, land fares brisker,
All this admonisheth man eager of mood,
The heart turns to travel so that he then thinks
On flood-ways to be far departing.
Cuckoo calleth with gloomy crying,
He singeth summerward, bodeth sorrow,
The bitter heart’s blood. Burgher knows not —
He the prosperous man — what some perform
Where wandering them widest draweth.
So that but now my heart burst from my breast-lock,
My mood ‘mid the mere-flood,
Over the whale’s acre, would wander wide.
On earth’s shelter cometh oft to me,
Eager and ready, the crying lone-flyer,
Whets for the whale-path the heart irresistibly,
O’er tracks of ocean; seeing that anyhow
My lord deems to me this dead life
On loan and on land, I believe not
That any earth-weal eternal standeth
Save there be somewhat calamitous
That, ere a man’s tide go, turn it to twain.
Disease or oldness or sword-hate
Beats out the breath from doom-gripped body.
And for this, every earl whatever, for those speaking after —
Laud of the living, boasteth some last word,
That he will work ere he pass onward,
Frame on the fair earth ‘gainst foes his malice,
Daring ado, …
So that all men shall honour him after
And his laud beyond them remain ‘mid the English,
Aye, for ever, a lasting life’s-blast,
Delight mid the doughty.
Days little durable,
And all arrogance of earthen riches,
There come now no kings nor Cæsars
Nor gold-giving lords like those gone.
Howe’er in mirth most magnified,
Whoe’er lived in life most lordliest,
Drear all this excellence, delights undurable!
Waneth the watch, but the world holdeth.
Tomb hideth trouble. The blade is layed low.
Earthly glory ageth and seareth.
No man at all going the earth’s gait,
But age fares against him, his face paleth,
Grey-haired he groaneth, knows gone companions,
Lordly men are to earth o’ergiven,
Nor may he then the flesh-cover, whose life ceaseth,
Nor eat the sweet nor feel the sorry,
Nor stir hand nor think in mid heart,
And though he strew the grave with gold,
His born brothers, their buried bodies
Be an unlikely treasure hoard.
..back with more shortly, meanwhile…
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