By Jon Rappoport
A dreamer dreams many things. In this case, he was merely walking from his living room to the kitchen, and a thought struck him, and he went AWAY for a few seconds, and a two-part dream laid itself out like a frescoâŠthen folded up and disappeared. He shook his head and resumed walking to his kitchen to make coffee. Crazy, he thought. Where did THAT come from? He looked at his watch. Another day in lockdown.
PART ONE OF THE DREAM
On May 14, 2266, the New England Journal of Medicine and Psychology published a paper titled:
WHAT IS âA NEGATIVE CONSEQUENCE?â
A quote: âBrain research discovers common patterns of activity across a whole population. These patterns would be called ânormalâ. Exceptions would be classified as various categories of âdisordered thoughtâ. Itâs assumed that only âharmonious and symmetricalâ brain patterns are positive and beneficial.â
A reader commented: âThis assumption is grossly false. Itâs a stunted version of aesthetics. Creative force always breaks out of these little geometries. So does every new idea. Increasingly, Earth culture is unable to understand this.â
âThe reader receives a government notice and is summoned to a hearing. Heâs interviewed by a virtual AI employee of the federal Department of Stat Research.
HOLOGRAPHIC i-FIGURE: âAre you all right during this epidemic lockdown? I see you live alone.â
âYes, Iâm fine.â
âWe want you to enjoy yourself. Are you watching learning programs?â
âNo.â
âWhy not?â
âI donât like them.â
âWell, we have a report on you. It indicates an output difficult to measure or interpret. What can you tell us about this?
âI donât know. Iâm composing a symphony.â
âA symphony? What is that?â
âItâs a piece of music written for a large orchestra.â
âI find no extant orchestras in the country.â
âThatâs true. Nevertheless, Iâm composing.â
âWhy?â
âFor that day when an orchestra may come into being again.â
âYour thought-impulses entered ranges we were not able to summarize.â
âI suppose that means your instruments are limited.â
âYour last statement is incendiary. It suggests we are imposing a restriction. As you well know, the science is settled on this point. We measure and interpret thought that contributes to an overall positive outcome, for the population at large.â
âIâm aware of that, yes. But the science rests on certain assumptions. I would call it greatest good as a lowest common denominator.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âYou assume a certain mindset contributes to the consensus reality you favor. You legislate a range of thought that will produce the consensus.â
âThatâs a gross oversimplification.â
âIt doesnât describe the algorithms you employ, but all in all I believe my summary is correct. Youâre reality makers. You monitor thought-emissions, and when you find a departure from âcombined averages,â as you call them, you issue a citation.â
âWhat is this symphony youâre composing?â
âItâs impossible to explain. Itâs music.â
âIt has a specific message?â
âNo. If it did, I would write out the message and leave it at that.â
âWhy have we not heard of you before?â
âI was doing illustrations for the Happiness Holos.â
âWhat happened?â
âI became bored. A machine could make those pictures. So I decided to compose music.â
âThe Happiness Holos are an essential social program.â
âPerhaps. They encourage people to stay on the positive side of a construct called Positive&Negative, which as you know is a State-sponsored theme. But what is superficially indicated by those two opposing sets is, in fact, fuel for the fire.â
âFuel for what fire?â
âThe artist can use and transform any material.â
âWhere did you hear such a thing?â
âNowhere. Iâve experienced it many times.â
âYour views are highly eccentric. I will have to consult your childhood history to understand their roots.â
âIâm afraid that wonât do you any good.â
âWhy not?â
âBecause your version, the US Department of Psychology version of cause and effect, is propaganda for the masses.â
âThis is your idea of a joke?â
âNot at all.â
âWhen you compose thisâŠsymphony, how do you think?â
âItâs not thinking in the way you use the term.â
âNo? Then what do you do?â
âI invent sound.â
âPreposterous.â
âLarge masses of sound.â
âAbsurd. According to what underlying pattern?â
âNone. Check the Library of Structures. I doubt youâll find my activity in the catalogs.â
âOnly known structures and patterns are contained in the files.â
âI donât invent through pattern.â
âNo? How then?â
âI improvise.â
âAnd this term refers to?â
âSomething done spontaneously.â
âAnd you exceed prescribed ranges of thought in the process.â
âPerhaps. I would hope so. I donât keep track.â
âYouâre being flippant.â
âI assumed youâd eventually cite me. Iâm just composing music during the lockdown.â
âThere is no citation yet. Youâre an anomaly. We investigate. We consider.â
âIâm afraid your and my idea of âconsiderâ are quite different.â
âLet me ask you this. When you are composing, do you ever believe you enter into a realm or area that could be called ânon-materialâ? Weâve heard such claims before.â
âNot if youâre referring to some fairyland. But all thought is basically non-material. The brain registers it after the fact. Thought, the real thing, doesnât take place in the brain.â
âYouâre deluded. And disordered.â
âIf I could simply confess to that and be on my way, Iâd be a happy man.â
âYou live in a society. To keep the peace and maintain the Positive, science has discovered that thought should occur within certain parameters.â
âIf you insist.â
âWe want to study you. Itâs a great honor to be called. You could help extend the boundaries of researchâŠwe register variation from the norm in your present thinking.â
âWhat present thinking?â
âWhat youâre thinking right now.â
âThat was quick.â
âThe readouts are instantaneousâŠwhat are you doing?â
âIâm starting the fourth movement.â
âWait. What youâre doing is disruptive.â
âItâs because of how you set your frequencies.â
All along the major esplanade, and in the lake area, and in the industrial parks and residential high rises, virtual structures shattered like glass.
The i-figure went dark.
A thousand holographic government buildings froze and vanished.
The composer said to no one, âIâm just composing. Well, apparently not just.â
âBack in his room at the edge of the city, he said, âI suppose thatâs what they mean by a negative consequence.â
He sat down at his computer and turned it on. Before he went to the composing page, he had to click on a sunburst icon and read a government message for the day. It appeared:
âWe want everyone to be happy during the lockdown. This is very important. Because much government function is being carried out by virtual assistants, weâve encountered a disruption in service owing to a segment of Disorder entered into our Net. Please be patient. Repairs are underway. These are learning experiences for us. There is always a certain amount of disordered thought in the environment. Most of it is unintentional. We welcome the opportunity to study such examples. As a member of the educated class, weâre sure you can appreciate the research aspect of our work. Thank you for your patience. Food deliveries will be delayed by a factor ofâŠtwo hours. Our latest figures indicate 2,147 new epidemic cases have been detected in your sector in the last 24 hours. Re-testing is underway. Please place your hand on the screen nowâŠthank you. You may remove it. Just a momentâŠweâre unable to process your assay at this time. Youâll receive a message indicating your viral status as soon as the system is up and running again. End of message.â
The composer plugged a small module into the side of his computer. The screen went red. Black letters formed: DISEQUILIBRIUM. He pressed the send key.
The encrypted score of the first three movements of his symphony set out on a rapidly changing zig-zag journey to a series of caverns below cities in Belgium, Switzerland, Germany, Italy, America.
A program consisting of the synthesized instruments of a full orchestra read the score and began to broadcast the music to small groups of people sitting in the cavernsâŠ
PART TWO OF THE DREAM
In a government office, a Stat analyst read a note from his supervisor:
âThe pandemic is having a positive effect on mass thought-patterns. Weâre seeing a significant smoothing out of trends. With major focus on staying indoors, rapid testing, isolation, and official updates tuned to each population group, overall harmonization is expanding.â
âThis gives us more time to focus on outliers and odd departures from the symmetrical norm. Attached youâll find a story written by a man who has been living alone for the past 12 years. Heâs a former scripter for the Department of Education series, âI Love School.â He dropped out and began writing fiction. This in itself would be a red flag, but the content of his latest effort is quite problematical. Give it a read and send me your assessment.â
The analyst opened up the attachment, took several calming breaths, and dug in:
âYou want to forget about the possibility that, buried under mind control, there is a very different human being? Suppose, for example, the psyche is equipped to see and use language itself in a way thatâs foreign to us? Suppose this language sends signals to our endocrine systems, and our chemical and biological processes undergo a revolution?â
âHere is what an astronaut said in a closed room in Houston when he came back from a three-month voyage in space and emerged from his quarantine period. Here is what he told the men at the table.â
ââŠYou see it wasnât just a planet. It was somewhere that made no sense at all. There wereâŠthings there, but I couldnât identify them. I couldnât put names to them. I thought it might be a puzzle. A game. So I just started walking. I donât know how long I walked. You tell me Iâve been away for three months. All right. I canât put any sort of time stamp on it. One thought came in on me, over and over again. I was in a different universe. And if it was organized, I couldnât find the pattern. So for a very long time I rejected the whole place, the whole setup. That was my main experience. Because who would ever imagine being in a locale where things were so strange he couldnât find a single word to convey them to anyone else? And then, finally, I remembered something from years ago. A play being performed by crazy actors. They spoke in a âlanguageâ no one had ever heard of. It went on for almost an hour. I felt very angry. A few minutes before the end, I was hit by lightning. I suddenly understood everything they were saying. I donât know how. And I couldnât translate it back into English. I just understood. It was a one-time experience. And that was what it was like, being in that universe. When I remembered this, I felt a shift. I knew where I was. I knew what was going on. I knew that universe. But I canât sit here and tell you what it was. That seems impossible to you. But itâs true. Iâm stymied. One thing I can say. Everything I once thought I knew about beautyâŠthatâs gone out the window. Iâve realized there were certain rules embedded in my mind. Maybe principles. Principles of harmony, symmetry, balance. Organization. I was living according to those rules or principles all my life, in all my choices, and now theyâre gone. They donât exist anymore. When they evaporated, I was able to understand what that universe was. All at once. On the trip home, I started to draw. Youâve seen my âwork.â Youâve looked at it, and you wonder whether you can use it to decipher what happened to me. But you canât. I was just inventing out of a vacuum. A wonderful vacuum. I was working from nothing, a void. Iâm not asking you to understand it. I donât feel you need to. I just know I stumbled across something. I never wanted it or looked for it. Youâve told me the drawings mean nothing to you. Thatâs fine. I didnât do them for you. All the vast telemetry we have? The codes and symbols and shorthand, the measurements? The markers and the baselines and the scans? Iâm not interested in them anymore. I donât have the slightest bit of interest.â
There was silence in the room.
âSounds like you got religion,â one man said.
âI feel,â the astronaut said, âlike a tiger who just walked out of the zoo.â
Security men stepped into the room. They had their hands on their holsters.
But the ops chief held up his hand.
âItâs all right,â he said. âWeâre fine. This man found something. Let him go. No one will understand him. Weâre protected. Weâre all inside the protocol.â
There is the little-known work of philosopher/linguist Ernest Fenollosa, the author of The Chinese Written Character as a Medium of Poetry. Fenollosa analyzed modern Chinese words back to older pictographs that minimized nouns. Instead, these ancient pictographs, at one time, presented a view of reality that was far more dynamic and shifting, in which action was the main event. The subject and object of a sentence were themselves of lesser importance, and were related to one another by their mutual participation in that action. âTo beâ verbsâis, are, amâwere just dead ducks. Irrelevant.
Suppose we had a language in which every noun was also a verb, in the sense that it threw off rays and curves and vectors of action and energy.
What would we have then?
We might, at the extreme, have an endless supply of dynamic universes. No potted plants.
We would be communicating with each other in a way that instantly gave birth to possibilities beyond current meanings embedded in our style of speaking and writing. The implications of each word of text would jump and leap. Instead of peeling off layers to get at the precise definition of a word, we would automatically be proliferating it.
Language, created by consciousness, also feeds back to it. And this feedback informs our way of viewing reality. The structure of language becomes, in a true sense, a monitor on what we can see and what we canât see. What we can imagine and what we canât imagine.
Itâs as if a psychologist, running one of those old inkblot tests, told the patient: âGuess what? Thereâs nothing wrong with you. Forget all that nonsense. Look at these shapes and imagine anything you want to. Tell me what you invent. Then Iâll do the same. Pretty soon weâll be speaking a different language, and weâll levitate out of this worn-out realityâŠâ
Letâs cut out middlemen.
Instead of the standard blots, print out all sorts of complex shapes on a page and say, OK BOYS, THIS IS A LOST LANGUAGE. FIGURE OUT WHAT IT MEANS. WORK ON IT.
Then if you can nudge or inspire or bribe people to do that, they will work for a few years believing there is really something there, something that is embedded in the shapes, and theyâll dig in and try to decode it. A few more years and they might throw in the towel and say, âThe hell with this, letâs just make it up. Letâs say each shape means whatever we imagine it to mean, and each shape can change its meaning from minute to minute.â
Then they start writing to each other with these shapes and thousands of others they make upâand gradually, they forget about the notion that they might be crazy. After that, glimpses and glints begin to surface in their minds. They donât know what they are, but they feel theyâre de-conditioning themselves from any language they previously knew. Theyâre out in open water. Their operational concept of Understanding is undergoing a revolution.
They realize how tightly they clung to their old basic notion of Meaning.
They drop that. They discard it in the garbage, because theyâre fascinated with the glints and glimpses theyâre getting. They want more glimpses. Theyâre inventing this language with no rules and no assigned structure.
Theyâre experiencing sensations of flying and soaring. These sensations are feeding back into their body processes and into their minds. The hard wiring is giving way.
You could say theyâre astronauts training for a mission in which theyâll encounter an intelligence thatâs completely alien to Earth.
There are analogues to what Iâm discussing here. For example, microtonal music. You tune a piano so that, altogether, 88 keys display the range of sounds contained within just one octave of a conventional piano. Going from the lowest note to the highest on the microtonal piano, you hear thin slices and gradations of notes that cover, all told, no more ground than one octave of a normal piano.
You sit at the microtonal piano and you play. And play. And play.
You listen to what you play.
At first, itâs repugnant. Itâs not only dissonant, itâs absurdly muddy.
But after a few months of playing that piano every day, you begin to hear something. It comes through. And the sensations it brings might remind you of places youâve been, experiences youâve had. But they go further, into a void where new sensations and meanings you canât name are possible, are happening. Are real. Eventually, super-real.
These sensations flood your endocrine system, and new proportions and sequences of hormones are produced. You experience feelings youâd forgotten or never had before.
The spectrum of feeling and thought expands.
Your whole notion of what you can experience and understand changes.
Your imagination is gearing up.
You never seriously considered there could be seven comprehensible sounds between any two keys on an ordinary piano. Now, youâre not only hearing them, they make sense. They convey emotion.
This would be like saying that, between each pair of words in a sentence, there are seven other words, and every one of them is an action verb.
When you understand that expanded and exploded sentence, you can talk to an alien from Parsec-12. He can talk to you.
After your first conversation, when you walk out of the facility where heâs under heavy guard, ride the elevator down to the parking lot, and drive through the gate, you look at the desert and you see things you never saw before.
You understand why magic was hard to do. It was all supposed to be taking place in a tight reality of unbreakable connections. Impossible. But now those connections have snapped. The landscape, any landscape, is much more inclusive and malleable.
Youâre reminded things were this way once. And now processes in your body open up. There is a reason for them to change. They secrete information and energy that have been dormant for a long time. Dormant, because there was no use for them.
The cells in your nervous system wake up to a remarkable degree. Theyâve been waiting for this moment. They turn off the perverted game show called Life theyâve been glued to for 40 years. They project rays in all directions. Your physical aliveness shifts up exponentially.
Through the walls of the holding facility behind you, you can see the alien. Heâs nodding at you. Yes, heâs thinking. Youâre on the right track.
âThe stat analyst leaned back in his chair. He prepared to gather his thoughts so he could write a report for his supervisor.
The author of the very strange piece heâd just read was obviously insane. Anyone could understand that. But what could the government learn about outlier thought patterns from the piece? During the comfort of the lockdown, most people were settling in, trying to relax, turning off their stray ideas, looking for the Positive, as the authorities had urged. But this man, whoever he was, had gone in the opposite direction. Why? And why had he chosen language as his jumping-off point? He was trying to attack everything that was harmonious and repetitive.
The analyst remembered something from his own past. A novel he had read as a child. A sea adventure. A sailor had stepped off his ship at a distant port and walked along a road toward a range of hills. It was a summer afternoon.
The analyst remembered that as the sailor walked on this road carrying his pack, a whole scene had opened up in his childâs mind, and he had put down the book. He saw those hills and he walked up to them, too, with the sailor. He walked ahead of the sailor and he saw a valley, and there was a city in the valley, and very tall buildings, and people on the streets.
Among these people, he moved slowly, listening to them talk. He couldnât understand their language.
And then he could. He felt he was falling and flying at the same time.
Now, in his office, he did a search and discovered the man who had written the piece he was supposed to report on lived in Hartsdale, a small town 20 miles from his office.
He pinned on his federal badge, took an elevator down to the parking lot, slipped on a mask, got in his car, and drove out of the facility.
The roads were empty. A half-hour later, he parked at the end of a dirt road next to a small cottage.
He entered the cottage without knocking.
The rooms were empty.
Floor boards in the bedroom were stacked in a pile, and there was a hole in the floor. He saw a ladder.
He climbed down the ladder to a dark room. The floor was dirt.
He felt the walls and found a door.
He opened it. People were sitting in chairs. They glanced at him and made no moves.
There was music. They were listening to music.
He sat down in a chair. He had never heard music like this before.
It engulfed him.
He was back in the city in the valley. He walked the streets, and he knew this was just the beginning. It was where he went to depart from what he had been thinking about. It was the first difference, the breaking of a connection. Not only the absence of gravity, but the absence of the character of gravity.
He felt quite alone and quite complete. But not isolated.
There was nothing from his past he needed to share.
And nothing about the pandemic or the lockdown.
It occurred to him there was no danger at all. No pandemic.
The whole edifice of danger and all its sub-sections were like old faded photos.
He stood still in the city.
âend of the dreamâ
The man who just had this dream made his coffee in the kitchen and took it back into the living room. Another day of lockdown. He sat down on the couch and shook his head like duck whoâd just jumped out of a pond up on to dry land. He took a sip of coffee and turned on the news. He felt himself relax.
He flipped from one channel to another.
âA person over 65 who has suffered from any one of several key illnesses must be vaccinated, as a precaution. All hospital and nursing home employees must be vaccinated. Travelers returning from the following locations must be vaccinated before re-entering the countryâŠâ
âHere at Driver Two Corp, all our people take the vaccine proudly. We want the community to know weâre in the lead in compliance. We support the Governor and his team of public health advisors. Our new contact tracing app has built in signals telling you when youâre at risk in certain neighborhoods. Visit our Facebook page and learn more.â
âHi, Iâm Dr. Julie Meng of the CDC. I want to tell you about a man named Carl. He refused the vaccine and infected his whole warehouse and we had to shut down the company. Right now, Carl is on a ventilator fighting for his life in a hospitalâŠdonât be a CarlâŠâ
âDid you know you can report certain people who actively refuse the vaccine? Go to our Facebook page and learn who you can report on and whyâŠâ
âAt YYY Corp, all 32,000 of us want to salute the nationâs contact tracers who are working to keep all of us safe. We know youâre out there protecting us 24/7. So weâre cutting your insurance premiums by 15 percent across the board, for the next six months, as a gesture of thanks. Tracing leads to vaccinating, and thatâs what we all needâimmunity from the virusâŠâ
âLeading our coverage this morning, the CDC has pinpointed three areas in Utah where vaccine refusal has climbed higher in recent weeks. Some estimates place it as high as ten percent. A breakaway church and its pastor have been blamed for spreading conspiracy theories. In accordance with federal conditions under which the COVID vaccine can be mandated, one of those areas has now been designated a âhot spot.â Local border controls have been set up. Two clinics are prepared to receive people who have turned down the vaccine and are being placed in custody. We now go live to the ER at Buchen HospitalâŠâ
âIn Houston, a group calling itself COVID Truth has leaked a public-health list of local residents who have so far refused to take the vaccine. Utilizing Facebook posts, 90 names have been exposed. Of course, medical privacy is an issue, but the majority of local citizens seem to be siding with COVID TruthâŠâ
âToday, three eastern states reached agreement limiting inter-state travel, deploying a wide-ranging series of highway checkpoints, where officers can demand certificates of immunityâŠâ
The man heard a rising noise. He walked over to his window and looked outside. A few blocks away he saw crowds gathering. They were spreading out across his neighborhood. How was that possible? He noticed they werenât wearing masks. They were standing close together.
The dream flashed through his mind again.
Without thinking, he grabbed his jacket and went outside to join them.
An hour later, he was threading his way through thousands of people. The crowds extended all the way to downtown.
So many people were holding signs that said FREEDOM.
Could this�
A woman next to him was laughing. She looked at him and handed him a pair of binoculars. He took them and looked in the direction she was pointing.
Along the highway, thousands of motorcycle riders were coming into the city.
He took a deep breath and let it out.
âWhatâs happening to me?â he said without thinking.
âNothing,â the woman said. âItâs all over. Their organization is gone.â
Reprinted with permission from Jon Rappoportâs blog.