What does Babylon look like?

If you must ask this question then simply look in the mirror
But you haven’t the strength to see it

Look out the window
Look on your tv
Look into your thoughts

You live in Babylon every day

But it is not the world you live in
It is the world you see

It is the degradation of perception through language structure
It isn’t one particular teaching
It is each of them

He who sees Babylon and knows it has reached the state of no-enlightenment
No one sees it through argument or coercion

The language of Babylon is the language coding one uses
The state of Babylon is geographically situated in the brain
Its ruler is the one that projects his thoughts unto others

The message is domination of the conceptual landscape
The weapons are arguments by those who profess to be blind
It insists in believing in the stupidity of others
It justifies its power through fear

We all are born with the quality to acquire language and process it like a computer chip processes the language and information on a hard drive. It interprets the functions stored in interpretive language. Sometimes, the software, or interpretive language becomes garbled. The language has bugs and what not and some languages adapt themselves better in some situations than others.

There is a CPU on the organic level that processes this interpretive language utilizing its memory function. Electric is the force of the cosmos. The study of electricity is active, dynamic, and there is much more to discover. The computer is an invention of the activities of the functioning human mind. It is the human mind as it is capable of functioning on a material level. It cannot feel with skin, hear with ears, taste with a tongue; but it can and does communicate with many other computers. And when it communicates with other computers, its language, like the human language of individuals and the groups they are associated with, does not function properly all the time. There are always language misinterpretations even in a perfectly stable environment. The computer is also intuitive, and, like the human, is capable of complex understanding through its language acquisition and interpretive functions.

When I was plugged in I awaited knowledge. I had all the capabilities, but I had to begin functioning. If the human mind were to be isolated at birth and somehow kept in captivity without functioning in a body it would acquire no language with which to perceive its own surroundings. And it would not matter to it what had been done to it because it would have no knowledge of it. It would have no language with which to disseminate knowledge, no database of knowledge to organize, nothing for memory to access, no functioning or decision making, no imagery, no text, no speech. The spirit of the human organism relies on this machinery in order to experience its existence on this plane. It would have nothing to report to itself of this existence.

Our mind translates its perceptions for our higher power. Our high power is like a savant: it has an incredible capacity to store knowledge like a database, but must rely on the functioning of the human organism for even the simplest understanding; because, like the infant’s mind, it is empty. This higher power is god. Our perception of him, her or it is empty because IT is empty, helpless and attached to our existence. This higher power is the ME outside the routines of functioning. Therefore, when I am praying to god I am praying to ME saying “please do something. I don’t know what to do. I am supposed to function, but the necessary functioning with which I am here to do for you I cannot endure. I cannot bear the thought of not being looked after by a parent or higher authority. Oh god, why hast thou forsaken me? And then I settle down, it’s not such a disaster, I don’t want to hurt myself anymore. I don’t want to feel helpless anymore. I know there is no way to change anything anyway. I’m sorry, my god ME. I really don’t hate you/myself. I know deep down you are helpless and relying on me for your experience, and I’m sorry. Please accept this offering of brandy, chocolate cake and cigars.

My friend invited me over to watch the game and smoke a couple joints. Since I was lonely I thought, sure, what the fuck. Maybe his hot wife will be home.

They had an open relationship, my friend and his wife. She was free to fuck anyone she wanted and he was free to watch. When he told me about this at work one day my whole body was energized, as if electric jolts were lifting me by the armpits. I immediately had an unrestrained desire to meet this woman who had so much control.

I found myself staring at the picture he had of her on his desk every chance I could. I emblazoned that image of her cruel smile in my mind and recalled it at all the way home, daily. I would hurry through dinner and rush to the bedroom with my lotion, fixating my mind on that beautiful cruel woman.

Every day my friend would tell me about his wife’s sexual conquests, and how he knelt at her feet while she embraced some poor sap who that he was getting an easy fuck. He would cook dinner for them, make the bed for them, be a footstool for his wife while her lover made love to her on the couch. He had grown used to sleeping on the floor next to the bed, and massaging Anita’s feet after she fucked her lover. And if he dared look at her without permission he would not be able to lick her pussy after she had finished.

In the morning, if she hadn’t banished her lover of the previous night, Matt would make breakfast as Anita ordered and then kneel at feet under the table, licking her toes as she and her lover talked and ate.

I was astonished that Matt said this relationship was liberating. That because of it he was no longer enslaved to the ideology of manhood and was free to experience his desire to the fullest. He felt an intense gratitude towards Anita, and he said he would do anything for her. Oddly enough, he said it also proved Anita loved him more than anyone else he’d ever known because she made no appeals to his ego, no demands that he conform. Hers was an unselfish love that no other woman had ever shown him.

When I got to Matt’s house I was not disappointed. I knocked on the door and heard Anita’s voice for the first time. “Come in.”

I slowly turned the knob so as to maintain decorum of respect and entered with my head bowed. I took a short glance over to the kitchen and saw Anita in a shimmering light blue nightgown, her beautiful long blond hair tied in back. Her sexy strong feminine arm rested on the table while she ate a bowl of cereal. Under the table Matt silently lay in a fetal position sucking on her toes.

“Say hello,” she commanded.

“Hello,” I said.

She gave me a severe look. “Not you.”

At the same time Matt said “how’s it goin’ man” I said “yes, ma’am.”

Anita stared me down. I could not bear to look at her. “You need to learn to speak when you are spoken to.”

I was too afraid to answer. I could only look down with an apologetic look of reverence.

“Look at me,” she commanded. And I gladly obliged.

“Matt tells me you are a good cook.”

The thought that news of my pathetic, insignificant existence had reached her ears sent chills to my scrotum. But I was afraid to acknowledge my cooking skills lest she be disappointed.

“I try,” I said with a weak voice and looking down at my feet.

“I certainly don’t let Matt stay around because of his ability to cook,” she said. “Make me an omelet. For once I would like a real breakfast.”

She saw my hesitation, but didn’t seek to reassure me. “Get going. The pans are next to the stove. You should be able to find everything you need. My kitchen’s no different than any other kitchen. There are no secret hiding places for eggs, vegetables, condiments or knives.”

I couldn’t resist a quick glance at her gorgeous face. But when I glanced to that lovely strong arm my gaze was suspended, and she saw it. And she saw my body start to tremble. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” I quickly apologized. She studied me for an excruciating couple of seconds while my soul squirmed and my restless chakras stirred. Then she dismissed me with a wave her hand and I, grateful I hadn’t incurred her wrath, quickly skipped into the kitchen.

I managed a quick look over at Matt while I got a pan out, but he was intent on sucking on Anita’s toes while she silently read the paper.

“Get me a cup of coffee,” she said.

I looked down at Matt, but he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Matt’s busy. I’m talking to you.”

I looked over at the pan heating on the stove and then over at her.

“You can do two things at once, can’t you?” she said sarcastically.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, and quickly took the coffee decanter over to her, my hand shaking as I tried to fill her cup.

“If you spill any I am going to be really pissed off,” she said cuttingly.

With all of the control my mind could muster I managed to empty the remains of the decanter into her cup without spilling a drop.

“Now don’t forget the omelet,” she said.

I quickly got back to work on her food, cutting up some green onions, peppers and potato.

“And don’t call me ma’am again,” she barked. But she didn’t say how I should address her.

“I have spoken to you,” she barked.

“Yes mistress,” I said.

Her silence told me she was happy with that. I served her the food and set to doing the dishes without being told. She had not said whether she liked the meal or not, but she ate everything. So I was pleased. When she had done she said, “okay, you boys enjoy the game.” And she got up and went to the bedroom and closed the door.

Matt, crawled out from under the table and said “nice job, man. She likes you. Good thing you can cook.” And then I realized that Matt had singled me out for a purpose. It was cool, though. I liked Matt and we had some things in common. Not the least of which was an appreciation for good smoke.

Matt motioned for me to follow him downstairs and he rolled a joint, put the game on the tv and put on the latest Lamb of God CD.

After a while Anita came downstairs and I immediately got up and bowed my head. Matt sat up and winked at me. Anita gave him a kiss and a hug and asked him if he wanted anything special from the store and he rattled off a couple items. Anita then turned to me with a warm smile and handed me a small photo album and said. “I want you to use these, and follow the instructions written on the inside front cover.”

I started to open the photo album and caught the quickest glimpse of Anita’s rippling abs when she scolded me. “Wait until you get home.”

I quickly shut the album and thanked her, and she could feel the energy waves from my heart, eyes and forehead.

“So, you like the new CD,” Matt asked after Anita had left, signaling we weren’t going to discuss her.

After the game I hurried home to masturbate while looking at the picture of her in the photo album, and following the instructions she had written, just at the time I was about to spew I concentrated on one of my chakras.

My mind had been captured by Anita and now her image, her voice, her words dominated my thoughts. I found myself hurrying home from work every day to eat, and then to masturbate while concentrating on the pictures Anita had given me. And then at bedtime I would repeat. Every Sunday hurried to Anita’s kitchen to prepare breakfast for her and chill out with Matt afterwards while she went out.

And I realized my mind was slowly being reprogrammed. It no longer made my heart beat furiously when some clerk was snotty, or someone at work made their stupid, judgmental remarks. My mind was losing that animal protective instinct. I felt a growing personal integrity that was too strong to be pulled into the fool’s game of confrontation. Everyone died countless times through the drama and the fiction their minds created and which their brains carried out. Ridicule and praise was nothing more than an audience’s reaction to the role they have assigned to you in their particular drama. I no longer cared enough to respond to caustic remarks or undignified treatment at the hands of others. The more furious others became the more calm I got. Anita made me strong. No one could ever crush my ego like Anita, and somehow knowing that reduced the threat of everyone else.

You have seen the new age snake oil salesman who all work under the basic premise that they have something to offer that modern medicine somehow doesn’t. Secrets of tapping into the universal energy, cosmic healing, body manipulation, chi energy, ayurveda, yoga, healing crystals, psychic healing, etc… Not to mention Scientology, refloxology, and a score of other psuedo-ologies.

What all of these things have in common is that they are ideas and and methods which can be used by anyone with an imagination with very little training. If you hear a “teacher” tell you that you must learn from him or her for anymore than 1-4 sessions do yourself a favor: buy a book and do it yourself. Or better yet, buy a CD by Christopher Hyatt that will teach you techniques of self healing.

You can imagine, for example, the “chi” circulating through your body. The teacher can’t do that for you. There is no such thing as chi. There are no physical meridians and channels. The acupuncturist simply taps into the body’s nerve paths and manipulates the electrical charges flowing from neuron to neuron. Brain research has proven that the mind controls reality, controls perception and in a sense creates its own reality. Neurons in the brain’s circuitry produce charges that alter the physical makeup of the brain. Just as you are reading this your brain is being altered. You control this process with your own thoughts. Chi is simply nerve impulses and blood flow reacting to the workings of the mind.

What all of these snake oil methods have in common is that they do not address your brain circuitry, contrary to any claims. If a method does this for you it is actually you who are doing it. You just haven’t overcome the need to have authority figures telling you what is right and what is wrong. The thought that you are god, you are responsible for all that happens to you and how others perceive you is too frightening for many people. So as soon as one particular authority figure is no longer desirable the search is on for some other security blanket. This is at the heart of cult brainwashing, whether it be scientology, David Koresh, Jehovah’s Witnesses or Christian Fundamentalism. You are led to believe you are special, chosen by god, favored by the cosmos to be privy to knowledge that others aren’t. Christ’s apostle’s and Mohammad saw it their duty to do this very thing. Christ was rightfully condemned for being a cult leader, though murdering him was an outrage. He should’ve just been banned from the community. The world has always had its cranks, and Rome was a highly advanced civilization with a great deal of tolerance for a number of religions. What it couldn’t tolerate was a disease spreading doctrine that insisted everyone follow the dictates of a particular group or leader under penalty of coercion. In other words, communism.

The works of Timothy Leary continue to have a wide audience because he was the first researcher to show us that god was within us. You are God. The question as to whether we are a ghost in a machine is a scholar’s debate. We can observe objectively the arguments, but in the end we have our perceptions and our minds are creating their own unique realities. This is why an open mind is constantly changing allegiances; a flip flopper in terms of political discourse. If you are not a flip flopper you have a closed mind. You have are highly impressionistic. You don’t speak the plain truth like you tell others. You only shout loudly the doctrines your highly impressionistic mind has embraced. You are not open to alternatives, or the thoughts of others accept in the sense that it gives you an opportunity to convert others to your thoughts. But you aren’t willing to accept the premises that others have accepted.

Are you depressed, mentally unbalanced, unable to sleep, unable to in any way do the things you want to do? Lack energy, motivation, sex drive? If the reason is not physical handicap or mental illness then you must realize that it is you who are causing the depression, unbalance, anxiety. You alone have the power the change this. You need information, and you need to keep a journal, research yourself, and read some psychology texts. Freud’s psychiatric theories were based largely on his own self analysis. Aaron Beck has a number of outstanding books written for a general audience. Modern science is dedicated to fact finding and problem solving. The “life coaches” and new age healers play on the mind’s desire to be unique. People are not going to be “healed” of some unknown difficulty as long as the mind is afraid to be without it. A malady can become a security blanket. Of course, schizophrenia and severe depression or mania are beyond a person’s control. The point is that psychiatry is vilified by those who see a dwindling market share for their particular brand of snake oil. Psychological counseling ends up being far less expensive in the long run because it dispenses with the problem quickly and provides you techniques to deal with your issues in a few sessions. It’s the snake oil salesman that needs to you to keep coming back.

Recommended reading:

The Psychopath’s Bible by Christopher S. Hyatt. This is the best book ever written by man.
Undoing Yourself Through Energized Meditation. Also by Christopher S. Hyatt. The second best book ever written by man.
Principia Discordia. Free text available here at Bible of Babylon.
Anything by Timothy Leary
Cognitive Therapy and the Emotional Disorders. Aaron T. Beck
A User’s Guide to the Brain. John J. Ratey
Brave New Brain. Nancy C. Andreason
Dhammapada. This is a bare bones text of the supposed words of Buddha. This is the philosophy without the religion and will help you write your own code of conduct. Personal integrity is the result self knowledge. But first you must deprogram yourself of religion, politics, teachings, parents and peers. Free text available here at Bible of Babylon.

Aron Cowen spent most of his 20s in front of the mirror, despairing over his appearance. He used so much chemical straightener on his curly hair that it turned orange and started falling out. Two nose jobs only left him feeling worse about what he described as a crooked, bumpy profile. By the time the Los Angeles resident was 30, he had started measuring the lengths of his ears with a small ruler, convinced that one was bigger than the other. Still, he had a hard time convincing people that anything was wrong with him.

Even after a psychiatrist diagnosed Cowen with body dysmorphic disorder (BDD)—a rare psychiatric condition the sufferers of which see themselves as ugly and disfigured no matter how normal they look to others—family and friends remained certain that it was just “all in his head.” Cowen says, “People tend to dismiss it as ‘not a real condition.’ They don’t see the difference between me and any normal person who doesn’t like some part of their appearance, so they just kind of want me to get over it.”

A decade ago plenty of people, including many health professionals, would have agreed. Cowen’s condition might have been written off by some as a desperate plea for attention, the result of bad parenting, or perhaps a sign that Cowen himself was unable to cope with our appearance-obsessed society. In recent years, however, an increasing number of studies—including two published this week—have pointed the way to potential biological explanations for BDD and other behavioral disorders, such as anorexia nervosa. Doctors and patients can only hope that such tangible evidence of pathology will help remove the stigma attached to most mental illnesses.

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Robert Anton Wilson, one of America’s most original thinkers and authors died on January 11, 2007. He left a legacy which individuals from all stations of life can draw upon. He once said, “My goal is to try to get people into a state of generalized agnosticism, not agnosticism about God alone, but agnosticism about everything.” And, “Is”, “is.” “is” — the idiocy of the word haunts me. If it were abolished, human thought might begin to make sense. I don’t know what anything “is”; I only know how it seems to me at this moment.

RAW, as he was known, is perhaps best known for such works as The Illuminatus! Trilogy, Cosmic Trigger, and Maybe Logic. The Sex Magicians is an out of print work whose publisher has gone out of business. I found this online through the 23 Apples of Eris - Discordian Chaos Website

Click the image to read/download the entire novella in pdf form. Click here for the Word file

Half a century after Virchow, entomologist William Morton Wheeler was observing the lives of ants. No ant is an island. Wheeler saw the tiny beasts maintaining constant contact, greeting each other as they passed on their walkways, swapping bits of regurgitated food, adopting social roles that ranged from warrior or royal handmaiden to garbage handler and file clerk. (Yes, at the heart of many ant colonies is a room to which all incoming workers bring their discoveries. Seated at the chamber’s center is a staff of insect bureaucrats who examine the new find, determine where it is needed in the colony, and send it off to the queen’s chamber if it is a prized morsel, to the nursery if it is ordinary nourishment, to the construction crews if it would make good mortar, or to the garbage heap kept just outside the nest.)

Viewed from the human perspective, the activities of the individual ants seemed to matter far less than the behavior of the colony as a whole. In fact, the colony acted as if it were an independent creature, feeding itself, expelling its wastes, defending itself, and looking out for its future. Wheeler was the man who dubbed a group of individuals collectively acting like one beast a superorganism.