Divine Blight

Sandboxing

I tried to tell them, tried to explain. It was so clear to me, but they just wanted to win an argument. They never understood, that it was not about thinking, it was always about being. Had they ever been there, had they ever seen? It was like they were missing some faculty, some important perception that they had willingly rejected, tossed out of the car window, roadkill.

I worked as best I could in their world, aware of something desperately few had a desire to imagine.

Have any of them seen the Fairie Light of scintillating living colour hover willingly over the very earth, floating effortlessly, twinkling in wonder?

Have they seen the discreet lizard, King of Dreams, totally invisible save for his wrappings, come to bask in that living light of Fairie?

Valid questions, since we have ol’ Abe himself hearing god voices, honing the knife to murder-sacrifice his own kid. Ezekiel, Enoch who isn't in the bible yet referenced, and the Dead Sea scrolls, which need no introduction. Why the change, great sandbox religion, from blatantly insane divine inspiration to insipid conformity? No answer is given, yet the shift has been made. Any unearthly experience is now untrustworthy, suspect, the hissing in the ear from terrifying entities.

Is their light only from electric bulbs and screens?

Too often this world is defined by abstraction when in reality it is beyond concept yet shockingly visceral, far more than a figment, yet in modern thought always reduced to less than a shadow, an impulse, a phantasie of sorry nodding and drooling collective assumptions. Got democracy? Got money? Got god?

Got phantasie, baby?

So there is this huge error in all the big three religions from the sandbox. They ignore it. Say there is no issue, since they can still murder, molest and scam money with impunity, but their non sequitur reasoning, genocides and collective bulldozing derive from error entirely. The sandbox god isn't what they think.

They all say they can paint the divine in any colours they want, and this is the problem they think doesn't exist. The divine, according to the sandboxers, is a plaything of the mind to be worshipped with full emotional involvement.

Sandbox religion stepped in and staked a claim on the Divine. Let’s be clear, the Divine never underwent any change, yet the sandboxers stole the perception, gamed access with the same formula they used to steal the Sun and Moon, the very same action that has spread their presence all over the globe. Sandbox religion, the first globalism, the taking, the arc welding of the mind.

Maybe nobody likes to be told this. Fact still is that sandboxers play tested their rules, while murdering any who had older competitive-read working-methodologies.

What is the truth of their error?

Lets make it nice and simple. For now we will keep out all the pre-sandbox stuff we can, except for this: Sandbox religion aped its notions of the divine from predecessors like the Hypsisterians Goethe claimed to have sympathy with, the Gnostics who were genocided for daring to claim there was a god above god, the Theurgists who spoke about the One, the Druids who understood transmigration, the Mysteries which removed the fear of death. They all predated the establishment of sandbox dogma, which wasn’t complete until after Aquinas had pressed eject on Dionysus, and the Renaissance was lodged into memory.

Sandbox religion ripped them all off just like they ripped off Yule, and Easter, and the Maypole. Didn't have anything native, just covered the heist with murder. Then, once gaining total control, went for the mystics and the healers, those who were led by their connection to the divine, burned them just because such people never stemmed from the sandbox mafia organization.

Or was it something else?

Perhaps in the back of their child molesting fervor, they had this little recognition that their ‘divine’ wasn't, and so they comported to evil, wallowed in it like the Sabbateans, believing the divine would appear in contrast to their nasty. Vain hope, for try as they might, they couldn't recognize divinity because they were given over to grasping, raping and murdering.

Sandbox religion, here to deliver you from your destiny.

God is good. God is great.

Error.

God cannot be good, or great, or perfect as Rene Guenon, the famous metaphysician was wont to say. God above God can't be any of that, no concept, no principle, no note on a blueprint. There is no such definition that arises from mind capable of containing the breadth, the experience of the Divine.

Any concept, any quality, no matter how heartwarming that you assign to the source, (which sandbox religion tells you is God) makes that reality smaller than the concept you just welded onto your brain.

It doesn't change the reality of true Divinity, but it completely monkeywrenches your ability to access and understand, sends you into a flurry of thoughts and images that have nothing to do with Divinity, belonging instead to an authority established under the guise of subverting the inner faculties of perception.

Go ahead and try it. Go assign any idea you want to what you think is the divine. Lets just choose one. How about light? God is light! We hear it all the time. Okay, so now God is light, but wait! What about the dark?

Dark is in contrast to light, yet darkness exists. So we hear that darkness is scary demonic and Satanic. Beware the place Nightmare treads.

Okay, so now we just introduced a huge division between the Divine and this world, on top of drawing a limit to the divine. Light exists in the world because it is contrasted by darkness. There can never be a concept of light, a definition, without a contrast to flesh the concept out. It is the nature of duality, which is the defining characteristic of this universe. So, the light, no matter how infinite must be limited.

Now that the Divine is clothed in concepts, God above god becomes an object. This creates division, separation. God becomes just another dude in the room, maybe a CEO or a president, but just another slob waiting for the bus, as Joan Osborne sang.

The division occurs as concepts, principles, measures are applied to what can't be subject to them. They control access, set up a game that is impossible to win, make a fiction out of ideas. They replace genuine access, which occurs via direct experience, with a creaking fake litany of nonsense.

So now we just introduced a fundamental separation to the order of the world, divided the world from the divine, and reduced god to childish concepts. So far so good. Why if we keep going we can get the error to become enshrined in thinking, bolstered by belief that exists to subvert all tendencies except for those desired.

All this deeply embedded error is enshrined familiar belief, never examined, never questioned laziness of mind that substitutes cognitively dissonant explanations for actual experience. The nameless expanse of Ginungagap described as some dude. There is absolutely no tradition to support this degenerate sandbox stupidification, no actual logic, no mysticism.

Error over thousands of years.

The truth is that the divine cannot be assigned or described, it can only be experienced. Names are at best indicators, the void as we call it today was the limitless expanse of yesteryear. No division exists between this sordid dying world and the pulsing mystery of the Divine. The only barrier is erected by the steel trap mind, welded with appendages that obscure the vision and replace it with the incoherent shrieks of the undeserving. Its a colony of the damned.

Because the Gnostics were all murdered, their women and children butchered by the fucking jag off in the penis hat, we have to look to the east to find the script which directly and completely describes what we are saying in language as plain as day.

“The Tao that can be told is not the true Tao”.

Let this sink in. The Tao you can discuss, categorize, compare, evaluate is not actually the Tao.

Lets put this into modern English. The Flow that can be held in concept, in quality, in principle, in equation, spoken of in any relatable fashion is NOT the true Flow.

The flow is the divine state realized through being in tune, through doing-not-doing, by not placing your welded brain in the way. Take a look at what is missing here…

There is no artificial division between divine source and this world.

There is no idiotic attempt to assign characteristics to that which transcends them.

There is no need to develop a superior people who are free to murder everyone else.

There is no useless energy spent in developing insane egregores.

There is no angry god punishing anyone.

Need we go on?

So, all the sandbox talk about the divine is really just stupid mind numbing bullshit. The divine isn't a principle. The divine isn't perfect, or great, or good, or loving or anything else. This is all baggage that sandbox religion has made you purchase with your life force.

Anything you think, you feel, you believe is what you bring to the question. Its yours, it isn't part of aligning with divinity, it doesn’t grant you exception, not even close. What it does do is arc weld perception blockers onto your brain.

To remind the reader why this is being written, sandbox religion, which is the first globalism, is predicated on fundamental error, that the divine can be conceptualized, reduced to a principle, a concept, a child's idea of good and light, and then used as a hammer to pound into dust anything or anyone that might not agree with this twisted explanation.

Now with this error you can make one nasty egregore, especially if you sacrifice children, women, and animals to him…and some dudes, while you're at it.

It actually is possible to trace the sandbox god through many iterations, cultures, societies, to wind up at the modern cross-cultural hybrid Yahweh/Jehovah. This should raise the critical question of whether the sandbox god is actually divine at all. It takes some digging, but then the evidence is there waiting, sandbox god didn't just appear, rather developed, evolved into the current iteration. After all the story of Moses is from Sumeria, ripped off and repackaged into the Old Testament. Sacrifice and worship energy given to this sandbox egregore, this entity, through prayer, war, genocide and torture, is continuing to this very day.

Of course today those who love and dance to the error are well rewarded. The sandbox dogs with their beloved egregore do hold enough of the puppet strings to make their orchestration believable to the masses.

The other thing they do is to give you the prophets, people who convince you they just want the best, and respond to your devotion by frying your ass. I've written about some of them here on Shadow. At least one of them was a fan of Kool-Aid.

I mean, if you are going to weld a bunch of stupid shit to your brain, what's the real difference between some old dude on a throne and space aliens? Why not a mother ship? Why not an egregore that you murder for?

One can concoct practically any story, as long as they leave the illusion in place, the curtain that hides the the Wizard of Oz.

Meat and Discreet met at the amusement park.

Meet was dressed in jeans and his Megadeath T-shirt.

Discreet wore his customary buisness suit.

Meet chose the car that had nothing but a flat bed to stand on. No lights, or chairs, or brightly painted railing. Meet liked it this way. It reminded him of the Silence, the Vastness where he was nothing. He was quite happy to take the ride just as it was.

Discreet waved his hand, and like magic, seats, and brightly painted sides sprung up and populated the once open space. Gazing upon his work he mentioned to meet that this was better than nothing.

Meet pointed out that that all the pretty things, that upon closer examination started to appear in need of maintenence worked to obscure the truth of the journey.

Discreet shook his head and said that stacking the car was better, it didn’t matter if it needed paint, or some new bolts to tie it all down. It didn’t matter if the seats weren’t really comfortable, because no one would notice, and people were accustomed to thinking they needed them.

They stood next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, not even watching as the amusement train pulled gently away.