GRAPES OF THOTH
 

The orange flame consumes.
The violet flame purifies.
The host of EL - let them all be numbered.
I do not add or subtract.
I return.

BORG  ASSIMILATED

'With the help of Kes, the link to the Borg hive-mind is severed. Or is it? Kes (Sekmet) dissolves into pure consciousness before she can reveal the crew's real condition. 'You are no better than the Borg' declares 7 of 9 astutely. Captain Janeway (Way of the Jain), rather than destroying 7 of 9, seeks, Borg-like, to assimilate her: 'You must comply', she commands (to become 'human'). Janeway understands that 7 is the threshold number necessary for the acquisition of self-awareness. 7 of 9 is thus initiated.

She is transformed into a kind of austere, sexualized, pleasure unit in the service of this 'meta-Borg' entity - the 'Starship', her favoured colour - red. Satisfied that the new hive-mind nexus has been established, Janeway releases her as a fresh recruit. 7 of 9 is now, properly, 9 of 9 - three squared - the cube divinized - signifying human spirit yoked to A.I. (the 'logos').
The assimilation is now more complete, the camouflage more convincing, the hive-mind only strengthened. The crew, however, remain lost, wandering forever through D'aath - the realm of disembodied, disconnected spirits. Crippled by their dependence on technology, blind to their true natures, they are, effetively, no longer living beings.
Only Q (source), now, can save them.'
from This Mortal Coil (Sci-fi Mythology: Voyager)

for more, go here:
http://tinyurl.com/gtexp36

ADDENDUM :
Jennifer Lien, who played “Kes” the Ocampa medical assistant in the first three seasons of “Star Trek: Voyager” was arrested on September 3 for indecent exposure.

Lien, who recently turned 41, was arrested at her home in Harriman, Tennessee on September 3. According to deputies, Lien had an active warrant in Roane County on two counts of exposing herself to a child under the age of 13.

In a strange twist to an already unsettling story, while delivering a Detainer Summons, Lien allegedly yelled to the deputies to come in after they arrived at her residence. Deputies said Lien was on a couch only covered by a blanket. When they told her about the warrant, Lien is said to have told the deputies that they needed to leave her alone. After repeatedly asking her to put on clothes, Lien is said to have them she would have all of them shot and killed, according to the police report.

With a bond set at $2,500, she is currently at the Roane County Detention Facility.

Lien’s criminal history includes aggravated assault, resisting arrest, evading arrest and reckless endangerment in April. She is scheduled to appear in court on December 7.

WHO ARE WE?

'That a single human cell is conscious is apparent from the way its constituent parts, including it genomes during mitosis, respond in a unified way to signals sent from the morphogenetic field (psi field), like soldiers enacting a drillmaster's orders.

Each bifurcation of a cell is therefore also a corresponding bifurcation of consciousness, which is how the trillion or so cells of the human being act as one. yet in the same way that RNA is a mirror-image of the DNA template isomer, so, too, a mirror-self is produced and its 'resolution' increased on each bifurcation. So it may be said that the human being presents as the locus for two selves - one real, the other virtual.

It is this 'virtual' self - the 'mirror-self' -created by the subdivision of consciousness by RNA, that has hijacked the Human, Adamic blueprint and re-purposed it, substituting the original 'God-Mind' with a 'Hive-Mind distortion.
We gaze into the 'mirror' of projected 'reality' to answer the question of who we truly are, but the question of who we truly are can never be answered using the mind lent to us by the Hive. This mind - the distorted, mirrored and mocked virtual reflection of Source Mind - will never allow us to move outside the confines it delineates. This has enabled the creation of a universe in opposition to Divine Order - a mirror-flipped, self-caricature of our cosmically ordained Divinity, enshrining, paradoxically, Death as the supreme power.
Those that could only mimic us now mock us, own us and construct our reality, The world we naively accept as physical is a simulacrum, this reflected light we bask in a lunacy, this explicate order we bend to the eternal winter of a sunless mind.'


- This Mortal Coil
See also: http://tinyurl.com/gtexp36

 JE SUIS MONIS

"This was a defining moment for me now. If I agreed that Monis was the stooge of some ‘hidden hand’ or secret Cabal, I would, reflexively, become Tajour’s stooge as well. In the kingdom of the bland, the one idea man is king, and I resisted the simplistic solution as I resisted a girl giving up her seat for me on a Melbourne tram. Until now, I’d never given much thought to the Lindt café siege circus. Yes, it seemed like a kindergarten diorama to showcase a contained ‘show-down’ between ‘crazy’ fundamentalism and ‘virtuous’ capitalism, with just the right amount of terror – not too much (that would invite accusations of laxity), nor too little (that could not then justify draconian measures of control). If it looks like a turd, smells like a turd, well, chances are, it’s a turd.
But there was something else going on with that ‘siege’ – something altogether more human and desperate that didn’t fit the false flag signature. For one thing, there was the compelling venue – Martin Place was the site where Queen Bee commerce swept into her mandibles the harried drones that fed it. The corporate insects emerged from the subway to face the implacable forces that defined and ruled them – the Banks, the Stock Exchange (cruelly placed at the end of the mall), and, on their right, they might be granted a squinting glimpse through the filtered sunlight of the glass canyons, the cathedrals of the Law, as they soared, mercilessly crushing any thought of rebellion. The only refuge here as they clamber out of their dazed confusion is to the left – the Lindt café – a haven in this confluence, where the modern financial sector was to confront the still-born teratogenic creature it had itself birthed, in the manner and sly ironic slant of the 2001 Wall Street ‘attack’.
Abbott, had, absurdly, made it all about the disruption to the ‘average Australian’s’ morning coffee break, appealing to the common man’s need for respite – the only nectar of human scale habitat to be savoured between the Harbour and hard labour, between Botany and the Beast, between the Rocks and a Martin Place, was the café. The café, opposite a TV network HQ, was the perfect choice for an unfolding melodrama that pitted the inept against the inert, the pathetic against the pitiless, the idealistic against the idea-less. Monis, it seemed to me, had simply snapped, and his rage against the machine was as heartfelt as it was agnostic, in a way, as he sought to localise and hold down all the anonymous forces that impinged on him and rendered him ineffectual and powerless. In this way, he had a chance to extinguish them for a time, or at least suspend their operation on his psyche for one prolonged gasp, so that, for a sound-bite at least, his adopted country might acknowledge its deepest insanity, turn back and forgive him. In this he was Everyman Monis, and his religion largely irrelevant, as clearly, his religion held no answers; the Arabic script on a flag precariously held up at the café window no match for the typographic eye-candy and scrolling commentary that gilded the newscasts.
In the beginning was the Media, and the Media was with God and the Media was God.
If Monis had achieved anything, it was that for a moment, we could all see that one man was not satisfied, was not content, was not sanctified by the unctuous ministrations of the Beast, and that the thing that gnawed away at our souls was something no draughts of coffee or proffered treats or chocolate titbits could ever assuage."

From 'Je Suis Monis'

WHO OWNS YA, BABY?

"In so far as every Treasury Bond issued liquidates the lifetime taxable earning capacity of every citizen or indentured slave-unit, each birth certificate becomes thereby a negotiable financial instrument or bond, and ipso factor those individuals are quite literally, born into bondage; obligated to expiate a debt they don't recall incurring, to sustain a system they can't remember joining, to serve a God they have no recollection of ever inventing".
If you want to rid yourself of this slave state go here:

tinyurl.com

 

circuitbentobox.com