The Placebo Effect & the Art of the Shaman

Money is the root of our demise
it dominates our lives and thoughts
and has corrupted our psychic gifts
we no longer" hear" the soul talk
of our neighbor

In rural parts of Africa
where script has not artificially indoctrinated and limited human communication
if a neighbor needs help and comes visiting
it would be rude for them to ask for help
it is up to the host to “divine” the neighbor’s need
and offer it freely without inquiry
there is no payment
no debt
simply mutual trust
in the exchange of mutual favors

this former intimacy among Bronze Age clansmen
long before written constitutions
legal clauses
and printed promissory notes
corrupted our extra-sensory perceptions
and innate love for neighbor
is almost entirely lost in modern societies

It is so good to know that humans have actually lived humanly among each other, and that our current dystopia does not reflect the way that humans “are” or have to be. What our current disfunctional world shows is how effective the mass corporate machine is in mechanizing humans, creating people without hearts as it were. Luckily, there are some people who can’t be shucked, as PK Dick put it, who just never buy into the ideology of what it means to be “normal” humans in a very abnormal inhuman society. But unluckily, way too many of us do cave in and forget who we really are: living, breathing organisms in a holistic, organic world with our hearts beating as one. For Dick, it would be “ad astra per hominum,” to the stars as humans not deterministic, ideological machines programmed by the state.

It is my argument in Psyche-Genetics
that the seed of consciousness is present in every atom
and that the association of atoms into different elements
constitute different frequencies of conscious energy
simply because we cannot tune into the frequency of granite
does not mean it is not radiating conscious energy
This also leads me to believe
that when human consciousness
mixes elements in order to manufacture
a human creation
ie a motor car
motorcar consciousness comes into existence
its engine heart pumps live fluid through its system
the alternator generates electric energy
and the wheels carry its human creator safely down the highway
and those who truly love their cars
or boats
or houses
or plants
or animal pets
or whatever
intuitively sense this
and engage in a mutual exchange of conscious appreciation

a crystal glass
tells me
“I am fragile.Treat me carefully”
and if I drop her on concrete
she screams in agony
and my heart misses a beat.

others can argue that I am crazy all they want
but for me
it is an intellectual form of Divine-madness
it makes sense to me
to continue to develop my critical evolution
while remaining ethically in contact with my intuitive animism

instead of arguing about unquestioning religious faith
atheistic cynicism
or middle of the road agnosticism
this personal attitude towards consciousness in general
allows me to define the common denominator
in all the myriad forms of atomic radiations
as Loving kindness.

I live with a reasonable sense of how Universal Consciousness operates
and who the Godhead might be
which allows my life to be far more vital and interesting
and caring

In essence
as this relates to the collective human consciousness
and how we affect the rest of Nature
this is a summation of my thesis on Psyche-Genetics
dealing with the Soul of the Atom
and the past/present/future metaphysical potentials of human evolution

That is so true, magnet. Once a car or any kind of machine is made, then there is a relationship between it and the user. Some people do very well with machines, and some do not. In one of Steinbeck’s books – I think it was either Cannery Row or Tortilla Flat – there was talk of the way a car always worked better for one of the characters and how they always break down for others. My dad was always good with machines. When he was twelve, he put an old abandoned car together and drove it around for a good while even though there was something quirky about it, I’m trying to remember what… something about the gear shift and the steering wheel was wrong, but he drove it and kept it working somehow. Not only that, but he would always keep a machine until its last dying breath, nursing it along… here I’m thinking of lawnmowers and stuff around the house. Me… machines and I get along well, I don’t know why, and mostly they just work fine for a long time on their own. I’m lucky that way, I guess, cuz it saves me a lot of money.

Cars have souls - atoms don’t…
That’s my position anyway.

Not all cars have souls either - they acquire one through experience.
Maybe very large and old atoms could have souls.

I would say the soul begins with the living cell - I think that individuality (self, soul, heart, identification, love) is embedded in mortality. Strictly, atoms aren’t mortal. Cars gain more caracter as they approach their end, if they are driven with love anyhow.

It’s weird to drive a battered car you buy from someone else.
Who knows what memories are tucked into the upholstery?

Man too
builds on his soul
with age and experience
and has been so engaged
for 3 billion years

I’v been told that some of the multiple personal victims can have different intolerances with different personallities, thus through suggesting we can provoke psycosomatic based results.