I
Concourses of auroras
Shimmer in exigence,
Floor after nimbus-ringed floor escalading
Into the modern heavens-
An efflux of light
Extending infinitely
Inside atomic casinos and cosmic department stores
Quanta into the atomic shell of matter-energy!
Every nanosecond
Excited particles bursting their orbit
Constant transformation,
A foray into the axis of reality
Of the nervous system and the universe
Instantaneously exploding
Inside a manikin’s head
On a cybernetic journey
Naked clotheshorses of bodies
Drifting
past in rows of automatons
In need of a revolution.
A cellular march of manikins up the linear/non-linear
escalator,
The plastic presentation of the fake world
Pursued by computerized shadows in electronic
steady state,
Their partial derivative with respect
to time, zero
Yet action from a distance, quantum entanglement of
Naked, artificial bodies within the
matrix
Ascending and descending
Toward the mental economy of vacuum
state,
Propagating information and devouring
it
Quantum splitting within the neurons of the brain-
Atomic particles divided infinitely
into series
Like the cyber-digitized flight of Zeno’s
arrow
That lands when and where it wills
The smallest particle imaginable
Ascending and descending a
Nautilus of steps:
Cyclone of galaxies and the neurons of
the conjunctiva,
Pathways of lightning
Spiral staircases, helices of DNA!
Approach of the hawk to its prey and
the moth to the flame
Wheel of Sun flowers
Finger prints of a child
Spira Mirabilis!
All Spira Mirabilis!
The whirl of an orbit
And a magnetized particle’s target of
interest
Is itself at the end of the collider,
Piercing the veil of the substrate,
And the particle accelerator inside a
television
Tuned into thousands of realities
That manikins travel in multitudes
All in obedience with the juggernaut
Up the escalator, ineluctably stuck,
The hero jammed in the machinery
That must be fed.
Lost in the incest of the moment,
Lost in the alienating journey
To solve the riddle of the Sphinx
Surviving somehow so far
Consumer hell and the karma of all creation,
Riding an escalator.
Revolving, evolving track, autotelic-
having within itself the purpose
Of its existence, end in it itself, the
engine
The hero, the manikins and the
escalator will never cease.
Sex and money will never cease.
Magneto of particle generators, progeny,
words
And uploads of information will never
cease
Every day consumed
Beneath the wheels of the juggernaut,
The vision of the machinery of the
universe
That never ceases,
Climbing or descending the archipelago of electric
stairs that drift
Like continental plates above a magma
of semiotics,
Concrescence of mind in hypertrophic
piles high in the atmosphere
Like lava streaming down, carpeting the mesocosm in wifi,
In information hidden in the air.
One escalator ascending, one descending
The machine living in nanoseconds, alive
As cybernetic phantoms filter past, going
up and down,
Luminous manikins of the skandas-
All magical beings captured in electronic illusion
Like consumer manikins in the cosmic, cybernetic marketplace
Caught on the escalator to the engines of the juggernaut
II
Every step a
River of gorgeous, linguistic steel
rolling like dice, aleatoric, stretching
Game theory to its breaking point, but kept in train by perfections of
Cybernetical logistics and the ancient fundament of Logos, flurries of
Data
keystrokes like diamonds register on the screen of the third eye,
The
air before us a glowing aureate computer monitor, eyes closed,
Birds with the
faces of little girls sing, hunting for seeds of energy that
Grow into dolls
and become real babies in fields of electricity inside
Millions of miles of
wiring! and the worming escalator suddenly explodes
Into snakes of Medusa’s
hair
That a winged Perseus stabs with
The aid of mirrors.
Ascending, foot jammed in
The machine, Oedipus
Answers the
riddle and the abyss erodes
An avalanche of all that bedevils vomited back up
Into a mountain rising from the seas of void
In a pile of language
To be sculpted into august verse
By poets, who tomorrow shall seek the ineffable.
All the Holy Grail of a knight’s Quest.toward perilous places
Inside the world
Found in virtual reality
The eternal hero
escalates and escalates a crisis
Unforeseen, the wound, the wound is its
own medicine, the wound of
The objective world
Consciousness precedes matter.
Essence precedes existence.
First person, reflexive pronoun?, the machine asks.
Yes, I say. I see myself.
I see myself here, in which I am my own
authentic history
And my own authentic death,
And my own authentic death,
And greatly outnumbered by a simulacrum
of manikins drifting past
And they programmed to see me as nothing more than a
manikin, too
All of us in need of a revolution,
All of us in need of a revolution,
Of an escape from the machine,
Stacked in escalators like the opening
to the Hot Gates
And like mindless Persians
I slay them
all, for I am their mental creatrix
And am in turn created and slain by them.
I look at the world and I only see shadows that tumble down
Through the planes of heaven,
A work of madness
By an insane demiurgos! Ialdabaeoth!
I am confounded and confused by thy juggernaut and its machines.
Me, the hero, the manikin among
manikins
Inside Spiritus Mundi
But the scene is captured on a computer
screen in pixilations;
An orchestra of security cameras
perform a fantasia of paranoia
Pixilating my face, up close, revealed in
Dismembered
propositions from which subject, observer, and object
Have been wrenched free and
restructured into an invisible,
Subliminal discourse which owes its
cogency to its own strict,
Complex and secret logic... a plurality of overlapping logics.
Vertigo, rapture, transport,
crystalline and plangent sounds,
Shattered and refracted light, an astigmatical
illusion - indefinite depths,
Weightlessness, piercing odors and tastes, and synthesizing
These sensations and affects, an all-consuming clarity.
A panesthesia of the Immanent
In which all elements speak in ghostly fields of the invisiblle
Range of electro-magnetic energy.
Opening the door on voidness of
identity,
The arising of a notion of self
That plays on ordinary routine,
Yet comes from out of
the unknown,
Emerging familiarly from out of this tiny
shell
That dwells at the bottom of the sea of
electricity
And lifts in a steel wave that splashes
up inside
The skyscraper of language
The escalator to the engines of the
Juggernaut
Demiurge of the Western meme
Taken to its extreme;
A world overrun by one consumer culture
In which the past sinks in melancholy
Down the electronic stairs of time
In a cascade of manikin flesh
Frantic runs the mind in voidness,
Yet from the Void it never separates.
Clear awareness floods everywhere,
And though everywhere, nowhere is an identity
found.
A maniken that passed me, going down,
staring into empty space
Was overheard saying,
“Have you ever wondered
How far, just how far
Deluded
You are
To have arrived here?”.
And his wife added, “Welcome to the Machine".
And another manikin added, “we are just part of a system.”.
And another, “we are just part of a deluded
system.”.
And another, “we are just sentient
beings.”.
And another, “we are just deluded
sentient beings.”.
And another, “we are just deluded
sentient beings part of a deluded system.”.
The rest of the manikins just bleated like sheep in silence.
III
The Atman is the witness-consciousness that experiences the action, the actor, and the world of separate things. It is like a light that illuminates everything in a theater, revealing the master of ceremonies, the guests, and the dancers with complete impartiality. Even when they all depart, the light shines to reveal their absence.
The Atman is the witness-consciousness that experiences the action, the actor, and the world of separate things. It is like a light that illuminates everything in a theater, revealing the master of ceremonies, the guests, and the dancers with complete impartiality. Even when they all depart, the light shines to reveal their absence.
-Panchadashi
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