Life and Life Only
People they come together
People they fall apart
No one can stop us now
'Cause we are all made of stars - Moby
I'm still chewing over the implications of "Grave Mysteries" and expect to for quite a while. Because I haven't the time today for greater coherence but want to post something, here are a few notes about where my thoughts are heading.
Let's start with the unlikely figure of Troy Hurtubise. He's a self-taught inventor led by his intuition known for his "bizarre, yet functional" creations. (Much like fellow Canadian John Hutchison and his physics-bending "Hutchison Effect".) Hurtubise makes things work that people who know better believe shouldn't, and can't really explain why they do. "Firepaste," for instance: an astonishingly effective fire retardant he's repeatedly demonstrated by the protracted application of a blowtorch to a half-inch thick smear of dried paste atop his head. The underside of the paste, and Troy's head, show no appreciable heating. (Video of a demonstration can be found on this page under the heading "Fighting Fire with Fact.") How does it work? Hurtubise guards the formula, but he's admitted one ingredient is Diet Coke.
A later invention of Troy's is "Angel Light": a device which, he claims, can see through walls and into flesh, detect stealth objects and disable electronic devices. He says the design came to him in "a series of three dreams," and he constructed it from memory. He later dismantled it when he found exposure to be harmful. (Characteristic of Hurtubise's work is his pursuit of protective applications.) Most recently, Hurtubise has announced "God Light": an array of "67 lenses and five gases to produce 80,000 lux of full-spectrum light" which he says has reversed symptoms of Parkinson's Disease and shrunk the cancerous tumors of mice.
It should be no surprise Hurturbise is called, charitably, an eccentric "mad scientist" by apologists of a scientific paradigm he disrespects by creatively violating. Yet "God Light" sounds very similar to the 1970 discovery of biophysicist Fritz-Albert Popp that carcinogens were light scramblers on the specific wavelength of 380 nanometres. Popp further learned that the still little-understood phenomenon of "photo-repair" - the rapid repair of a cell 99% destroyed by UV light with a weaker emission at the same wavelength - was most effective at the same 380 nanometres.
As Lynne McTaggart writes in The Field, "this was where Popp made his logical leap":
Nature was too perfect for this to be simple coincidence. If the carcinogens only react to this wavelength, it must somehow be linked to photo-repair. If so, this would mean that there must be some light in the body responsible for photo-repair. A cancerous compound must cause cancer because it permanently blocks this light and scrambles it, so photo-repair can't work anymore.
This was the theory which led to the discovery of DNA as a coherent emitter of biophotons. He found the frequencies of healthy subjects followed dramatic set patterns, and exhibited correlations between parts of the body and the wider world. The emissions of cancer patients, however, were markedly different: rhythm and coherence were lost; communication scrambled. "They had lost their connection with the world."
Illumination is a difficult word for its being weighed down with the uncollected baggage of Adam Weishaupt. I won't use the word "Illuminati" for today's occult elite because it says too much and not enough. Still, as a metaphor for a high and hidden order of adepts initiated into secret knowledge, it's difficult to do better.
Are you illuminated? Perhaps the answer is Pelagian. Perhaps the answer is yes, we all are; and the radiant light is the Divine Spark that bonds us soul to body, self to self and world to world. Perhaps that's the true secret that's meant to be kept from us who are outside the Temple and the Tomb: that God also indwells the "useless eater." That seems to be what the Ayahuasca wants to tell us. That appears to be the lesson of shamanism, and also, perhaps, of all partisans of the Life-Force within every tradition.
(Also, let's note, it's an electric light, which must remind us of the ubiquity of the buzzing of bees. Tesla, as Reich, was its apostle.)
Something else, and something darker, out on the borderline of speculation. If our code is the Great Secret, then this casts another shadow upon abduction accounts of reproduction and genetic manipulation involving both human agents and trans-human entities.
In The Search for the Manchurian Candidate, author John Marks quotes a scientist who worked on a secret genetic project for the CIA's Office of Research and Development in 1965:
We looked at the manipulation of genes. We were interested in gene splintering. The rest of the world didn't ask until 1976 the type of questions we were facing in 1965.... Everybody was afraid of building a super-soldier who would take orders without questioning, like the kamikaze pilot.
On January 6, 1998, physicist Richard Seed launched his cloning project with the words "the reprogramming of DNA is the first serious step in becoming one with God." Soon after, the Clinton White House banned federal funds for such experiments. A decision Dr Helmut Lammer believes worthless as most "black projects" have been offloaded to the private sector. I'll return to this later, but for now: would you expect covert DNA manipulation, by human or trans-human abductors, to enhance or inhibit access to our higher selves?
I resist the trippy impulse to say "everything is an illusion" (that includes the icky corollary, "everything but love"). It strikes me as an adolescent retreat from mundane affairs and a surrender of the world to the forces of death and darkness. Rather, I find myself preferring everything is real. Even our apparent illusions. I think maybe that's the ground upon which we can pitch our battle. And Life hasn't lost yet.
We may not even need to travel to Peru and projectile vomit in the jungle to know this.
By the way, I'm far behind in my inbox, so if you think I owe you an email I'm sure I do. Sorry about that, and for this blanket apology. I hope to get on top of correspondence again soon.