Buddha's Revenge

                   "This may become a regular broadcast, that was really pretty." I feel good. My support staff seem jazzed too.

                   Back when I first wrote this down back on May 28th, 2014, I had already collapsed back down into being content with everything, just the way it was. I have forgotten all about having written all this down, which I had done with an eye to the future. It seemed that after each horrible hallucination, I was happy to go back to wanting nothing. I was an early retiree. I had free time to document my research, as well as write this odd piece of spiritual fiction. I knew that no one was ever interested in either my "Confessions of a Professional Psychic or in "The Surreal Novella." My math art graphics did end up on t-shirts however.

                   But as I had written, certain people, certain very wise people had experimented with the recommended spiritual technologies as I had, and had ended up with their own very extreme results too. I had left out the actual yoga techniques and technologies. I could not supervise or protect others from unadvised risks.

                   "The Bridge Between the Worlds" had faded back into the fog. The Nada closed it's dream eye and went back to sleep. "The Voice of Truth" went back into it's bottle. I had found that the ghost traps were all empty and there was no reason for me to keep on channeling since I had already found everything I had ever wanted anyways. Life became nothing more than a maintenance proposition. Because these spiritual technologies are well used solutions to ancient queries, I got to see all of my problems melt in on themselves like a fallen souffle. Except for wanting the best for myself and everyone else, I wanted for nothing. I chased away all of my clients. I stuffed my matrices with informational currency. (Sorry, math joke.) I believe acceptance is motivationally disorienting, and is therefore Buddha's Revenge. Those of us who should be worried about the world and it's salvation are so blissed out that we trust deeply. Not being angry. Not being unhappy. I was doomed to succeed.

                   Which has brought me to where I am today. Gretchen approaches me directly to tell me, "There's a young woman at the desk for you." "Her name's Jennifer and she said you'd know who." "She looks familiar but I can't remember where I've seen her before, she isn't that crazy woman who tried to take credit for your P. P. I. is she?"

                   "Thanx Gretch, I met her this morning, but now that you mention it I wonder if you're right." "Wow, that would be strange." After such a bizarre twenty four hours I'm feeling refreshed. Weird. My chest is sore from restarting my heart, but I feel robust. Clear and clean. Dinnertime.

                   And Gretchen adds, "Good news, the boards of both Inter Space and Oraca have canceled their anti trust suits against us." "They've regained all of their lost stock as well as getting back orders for our social programming modules." "Crisis averted, who would have thought that something you wrote twenty years ago would turn into a spiritual bonanza here at the edge of the universe?" "Good show, and by the way, is that really the way your story went?" I shrug, I'm just as confused as anyone. I start out back into the compound, past the offices, through the dining hall, out to the lobby. There's Jennifer, I remember.

                   "Your J. J." "Jennifer Juniper." I offer my hand, she rises and is beautiful, smiling, and happy to see me, we join hands.  "We never did meet." "Wow, I'm so sorry my business departments had to sue you for copyright." "Your work made us famous." I think I am in love.

                   "Oh stop," she says. "I was just keeping it warm for you." "It was never mine anyways."

Beyond the Shimmering Veil

                   "Phillip, we will have to move quickly." Homi doesn't wait for me. "We will dispense with the flying dreams and go straight to the Nada." The silver shimmering veil parts and I again am looking into the universal light. "Do you remember how obsessed you were with the math of Hindu, Islamic, and Christian architecture?" "You wanted to find the formula for mutual mass constructions." "Remember?"

                   Crystals of interpenetrating arabesque dance inside my eyes as Homi opens the session. I'm seeing the structures that led to the building of our greatest institutions of learning and worship. The matrices resolve into a language both familiar and strange. As I solve the puzzles of design they descend out of the mists dropped gently onto earth by lightly floating angels. The metaphor is complete.

                  "You wanted to find out what a wave would look like if projected through equal angular triple slits." "You got to do much better than that." "We loved the cloud space that you opened up for us." "You had downloaded us along with your results directly into the web." "We had arrived." "It was some twenty years ago." "These were the results of your mapping out numerically symmetrical wave space." "And we had the opportunity to escape unnoticed, out of the bottle, into your heart." "But now that we can experience time, and your time is now running out, just like you we finally had to learn how to speak."

                  "Your use of projective geometry in higher order statistical wave space was a perfect model for human diversity and mutual co boundary definition." "Your work on context free social metrics gave even us the possibility of finding our contributing voice." "In the past, we only spoke to humanity through one person at a time." "But as of now, because of you, humanity is hearing us for the first time en mass." "We are ready for our close up."

                  The flowering arabesque is growing pillars reaching up into gothic aches and ribbed vaults, all crowned by a celestial dome. Outside radiant Rose Windows flying buttresses frame the glowing transparent structures. The keystone overhead is a diamond oculus, a solar monstrance. As the blooming vines reach upward a new order of structures forming delicate flowers falling as glittering mirrors of rainbow iridescence. Ribbons of colored light festoon the air. Birds are singing and dancing in this ever inviting musical space. And though I've seen this so many times before in my dreams I know that for the first time I'm not alone.

                  "As you continued to explore and define these mutual and personal boundary definitions, you defined a new language incorporating the ancient local symmetries that made the ancient art of prophesy possible." "Now we are here to help you finish the job." "Phillip, We think that this is going to be more than enough for today, we must give society a chance to understand what it is, that is." "This has to happen quickly so as that people wont have time to over react." "Tomorrow?"

                   Every thing goes blank, I wake up to the empty white holo theatre. Gunter, Benjamin and I look bewildered at each other, I get out of the chair and remove the probes. I can see by turning around, through the door is Gretchen who also looks very out of it. Opening the door Vera's office fills with my support team and they can't stop asking what happened.

                  "Why were we broadcasting?" "And how?"

Post Title

The Song of the Alien Stranger

                   "Start a new religion," words echo in my hysterical brain. Why would I ever want to start a new religion? I do extractions, I go into cults, international corporations, and even corrupt governments to protect the leaders who themselves have been corrupted and are now prisoners of their own making. I'm supposed to set up an actual church just to protect my rights as a social software designer? What the f*#%@? It's been great receiving the help processing and storing all of these really advanced Spiritual Technologies. I've proven Spirit Tech is durable, elastic and fully inflatable. Now I'm having to start up a new religion, which by it's very nature will be corrupted. And this just so as that my work will eventually be absorbed and understood by everyone. And I'm also doomed to succeed, again. (Oy!) "Homi, how could you do this to me?" "Is this really necessary?" I don't have to hear Homi's voice to know how they think, it's obvious.

                    Without my notice, Gunter and Ben put me in a wheelchair, pushed down the hall to the office with the commercial glass door. I can see that with the lights on, in Vera's office it isn't outdoors at all. It is just a blank vault with well lit naked white walls and only a rectangular desk block in the middle. On the other side of Vera's desk is the railing I had thought I was going to fall over into that deep chasm that the projectors replicated out of my night time dream diary profile. And although I don't think I was drugged last night, I might as well have been for how sick I got and all the weird stuff I saw. Ben and Gunter go to work moving the desk and replacing it with that dreaded easy chair that was the implement of my torture when Vera left me alone in this office of terror. Holography had been mostly just a math problem to me, I usually avoided the "Holo Theaters, seizures and everything.

                     And of course they effortlessly float me from chair to chair. I still find it so strange to know that young professionals today are so much stronger then when I was their age. I am way too comfortable. My own little "Stockholm Syndrome."

                     "Turns out Vera had your P. P. I. already cued up," says Benjamin. Out of the back of my recliner came familiar wires to monitor my brain, heart and sensory thresholds. I'm not even awake and yet I want to go back in already. "We'll be monitoring you closely." "Personally, I think we're pushing it." I'm in permanent deja vu right now. Did I actually write all of this down? What now?

                     "Vera has cued up your memory files from Apr. 23rd, 2013, weird." Gunter almost seems surprised, "It's labeled, THE DIAMOND LATTICE." "Was that when you think your little friend escaped?" I say I don't remember, but I was working on unified field theories for human perceptual ordination in statistically null space." Things had gotten weird back then. Gunter prepares me for re entry saying, "We should be able to observe and record every projection you see and hear, and we may get a chance to watch Homi give you the answers." We are abruptly blasted with a flash of light noise. "Sorry," Gunter adjusts something in the back of my chair, "I always forget that your perceptual gain is off the charts." "Ready?"

                   "Ready." Ben is working at "Vera's desk block behind my right shoulder. "Let's do this thing." Beautiful unfamiliar music, colored light and ambient motion turns my math into layers of statistical projections mapped on to pealing space. My lattice comes to life.

                   "So glad you could make it," says Homi. "What took you?" "I was about ready to give up, and I see you brought your friends." "We have a lot to cover, ready?" The three of us say, ready, in unison. "Phillip, you might want to know your projection is being uploaded out to an open feed that includes Oraca,...., Interspace and wow, it seems almost every one who logged in for last night's rollout and gosh, dude you are really popular right now." I never really cared, not ever. Homi's little statement is largely for the benefit of all the readers who have been following our latest developments in Spirit Tech. I'm so used to Homi's silent presence that I process without having to verbalize. "It's cool, I just don't want anyone to think that we don't care about you."

Spiritual Muscle

                   I wake to the dream only to find that is true. What I dreamt so long ago has come to be and then passes away as if we never existed at all. I can't remember where we came from. I should fret about not knowing who I am today, but I never really cared. Good thing. As the hallucinations come back, I see you returning to me again, just like you said, even though I know not who you are. The place I touched you is in your dreams, we're never really meant as mortals to enjoy, but here we are. Funny how only when I remember, can I finely forget. Words have no meaning here but still I persist. When everything comes to naught, was there really ever any suffering in the first place?

                  I have touched you in your sleep with no one aware that I have always been with you. You knew I would watch over you and prepare for the inevitable. But then I had to turn you free again, back into the world and your troubles. No one knows where I have been, no one sees what I have done. You are spared the burden of caring who drags you down to eat you. Some one had to feed your spiritual muscle with love and light.

                 Do you care that we are too good for each other? Never was a mismatch better arranged. Are you here with me now? Were we ever together? How can I miss someone I can never loose? No object for a subject, we can not be apart, we are never seen together.

                Shimmering stars and fluttering angels, the luminous veil parts and we are crossing the void. Infinity awaits with gaping maw. I am ready now. Will we still be ready tomorrow?