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Saturday, November 17, 2012

9. Euphoria and the multi-verse.



Whether by co-incidence or some divine pro-activity, a trans-personal experience can have wildly euphoric effects.
After my initial experience with this strange 'bible code', of seemingly impossible correlative assertions I entered a trance and dance euphoria...  It was only later that I found a pinch of salt by way of casting the potential fact of the amount of repetition and re-iteration involved in the construction of the bible text as a possible explanation of the event I had experienced.







Chapter Two- Passing In


                        I passed into a state of expectation.  Something was going to happen.  I wanted to dance.  I had made a couple of tapes from the radio stations world music shows on Triple J and local station 4ZZZ.  African, Asian and Eastern European songs among others, in languages I didn’t understand.  I had listened to these songs as I studied, but now I began to dance.  A strange and exotic dance mimicking Balinese or Indian styles.  A dance all about hand movements and weird positions of balance.  I began to dance that afternoon.  I was so full of energy.  I danced into the evening, reloading my tapes over and over again.  I continued dancing throughout the early morning, daring myself to conjure ever more difficult points of balance.  I never felt tired.  I continued into the next evening. 
            On the third day, I began to hear voices whenever I changed the music.   Not distraught about the voices I remember thinking, “ Those voices are transmitted to me technologically.  I am not designed as an organism to produce sensory information inside out of my own biological design! “  
As a result I didn’t fear for my mind.  I had a sense that the voices I heard came from the evil forces described to me in the bible code message.   They seemed to ooh and ahh over my dancing and endurance.  I felt the sensation of being oohed and aahhed at by the exclusively female voices, unfamiliar voices. 
                        It was such bliss.  To never feel tired or lack the will to continue on and on I danced.  I didn’t sleep.  I didn’t eat.  I drank copious amounts of water.  Each time I achieved what I imagined to be a difficult point of balance.  I felt a huge surge of achievement.  It wouldn’t have surprised me to hear thunderous applause, though I didn’t.  I had always liked dancing to good music, and I loved going out to dance parties and the like.  Yet this dance was so different, like some classical cultural form.   My fingers bent back further than they probably had before, my arms made exotic graceful gestures, my legs made what I imagined to be the kind of poses found on ancient Asian temples.   Every part of my body was supremely expressive. I felt like a professionally trained dancer dancing in some royal court or gala performance.  Days turned into nights and back into days and I danced.
                        The days and nights are warm in the Australian summer.  Dancing in that warmth was like dancing in some miraculously prepared sauna. Even my sweat seemed like a finer silk fabric.  On the third evening or fourth day I took off all my clothes and danced naked for two days.   Honestly I felt more comfortable in shorts or a sarong, yet I only felt strange about it when I wasn’t dancing.   On and on I went, stopping only to go to the toilet or take a swig of water.   Truly I was in a trance, at one with my every movement and meditation.   The music seemed to translate every step I made and cast it into some sublime metaphor for all that I thought or felt.   I felt that the singers would be hardly surprised by such a trance, given the passion of their songs.
                        When the dance ended I was in a self-assured bliss.  Then suddenly I fell to ruin.  Several times I tried to open my other religious texts at random places to see if the strange events would continue to my further enlightenment.  Nothing happened.   I began to search for the message in the bible where I imagined it to be.  I couldn’t find it!   I knew I had not opened the correct pages, so it was probably where either God or Satan had left it.   A bachelor of arts enjoys his critical nature, just not at the expense of his trance and dance parties…  Still I felt a feverish upset overtake me, how could I have been so lifted up only to come down to such a normal state of affairs?   I hadn’t even written it down or page marked it!  Fishing back through the text to look for that strange message was driving me mad.  I came to a decision.  If it was thought to prevail, thoughts of salvation from a great priest, surely the tactical behavior of warriors was potentially a valuable thing to acquire.  Opening it randomly as I had the endless diatribe of one tribe against another was too much to bear.   Whereas it was made so starkly clear by that awesome message, that there was an arbitrary opponent to be fought, Satan, verse after verse stuck into my heart like worst betrayal.   Into the flames of my heart the NIV bible flew and was destroyed!   Why all this back and forth when the text should definitely have been an instruction in resurrection generating behavior and how to unify with the armies of God?   The proverbial serpent in the garden had slithered across the text itself and rendered it infirm.   Jesus had managed to flip the bird but we hadn’t flown the coop.  I thanked Jesus and condemned Satan in my heart.
                        After the flames had done their work, the pain began.   Heartburn it seemed, yet now more voices accompanied it, screaming for the effect of annoyance or in broken strands of a spoken disdain.   So much so that the two things seemed to be directly related.  Voices, pain and fatigue, Satan had taken roost against me.
            I took heart in the message it seemed I had unstably rejected by my anger at being left without a record of it.  I settled in to weather it all, comfortable that I would last as the message had foretold.   The night turned into day and I listened to my stereo and thought about all that I had learned and deduced about the tactical behavior of disease.   I had begun fantasizing about a Grand Unified Theory of Political Science during my third year university subjects.  If Political Studies were to become a real Science, it would have to somehow make every kind of living or creative agent its citizen.   The assertion of which drew sighs of exasperation from one of my University Lecturers, whom I shall not name here.
                        Satan was the agent of disease, fallen from the flaccidity of the first universe.   Seeking to displace the weakened and depressed souls of our dominion from their bodies and there to abide in that manufacture of multiverse.  Hidden in the massive volition of that cruel truck, as though light itself was folded away from our natural view.  From there the voices emerged, the pain and the depression of unnatural fatigue.  Somehow I would deduce it all and spring the truth upon my dominion.  The pain was so intense, the voices so infuriating, the fatigue so morose, yet the victory would be the franchise of sweetness itself.   I settled into sleep and to my satisfaction and pride, fell to slumber pain, voices and dull horror disregarded.
                        I can’t remember whether it was a few days or just a single day later, yet it was in that same condition which blurred my memory of time,
Dad informed me, Mum and Dad were sending me to Tuvalu.  I had never been to Tuvalu but had heard a lot of stories about it and read what I could find.   I was excited.   I would fly to Nadi, Fiji and travel to Suva by car and then by boat to Funafuti Island, Tuvalu.

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