With earth's first clay they did the last man knead
And there of the last harvest sowed the seed
And the first morning of Creation wrote
What the last dawn of Reckoning shall read.

Omar Khayyam

Last Dawn of Reckoning

Deterministic philosophy -- that is the idea that the world is a machine set in motion in the very remote past, whose entire future history was predetermined in the beginning -- is the essential core of most ancient traditions. Our poet proclaims it here as a basic Islamic belief.

It is true.

Although I choose a relatively passive term when speaking of being "The Central Sun", it is a fallacy to assume that this implies a remote power-source located countless light years from earth somewhere off in the sky.

I centre a closed Universe. Earth is the hub. Earth is My Home. Earthlings are My Chosen People. Indeed it has been that way ever since the play began.

My Love is earth's central vibrational life force. Mind floods the bubble like a sea of electrical energy. Life activity begins. Streams of evolution, like pages of the book of life, radiate from Mind like sonar waves in the ocean. I AM the electrical generator -- self propelling, intelligent, infinite.

The Big Bang of Creation set the boundaries of the present stage, establishing a huge Galactic Amphitheatre. This effectively closes off the 315o portion of Absolute Circle. I AM captured in time until the play is done. All attention is directed to The Children of Earth.

The story of Adam and Eve tells of how, once the scenery was set, the first characters were introduced.

Man is not made of flesh and blood. Man is a Solar-powered electrical being. He puts on and takes off the fleshy garment in much the same way that any space traveller would equip himself with suitable clothing for a journey into matter. When it is time to return to his home dimension, man just slips out of his physical garment, often with a great sigh of relief to be free of the cumbersome garb. He is invariably met by support staff who tuck him comfortably into a decompression chamber until such time as he is acclimatized. The ascent begins.

Adam, the first symbolic man to set foot on the planet, was a great pioneer cosmonaut. Like all I am's he was well briefed on the mission. He knew he carried a solar life support system, a fully rechargeable power pack.

I had dropped in awhile before to put the finishing touches on My equipment. Once the Cosmic clock was set in motion for the galactic enterprise nothing could halt its run to conclusion. I had allowed an energy allotment of 26,OOO years for the I am incubation period.

The play would unwind much like a video tape.Spiritual evolution would begin gradually, gaining steady momentum over the ages, then show rapid acceleration in the final few decades once many co-ordinates were aligned.

I am -- Adam was basically a magnetic core or filament, attuned to the frequency of the universal sea in which it now floated as an apparently separated element. This illusion could be quickly dispelled by tuning into the music of the spheres and feeding on the "hidden manna" of Solar energy.

I am -- Man was very young in those days, like a tiny infant nursing on an eyedropper. The frequency of the sea was kept low in order that earth children would gain strength gradually without getting any fuses blown.

Allegorically speaking, I am -- Adam and his peers were capable of withstanding only minute amounts of electrical current. Thus the sea-current was tuned down to match the men who lived in it.

Although mens' bodies disintegrate at "death", the illusion of death is simply that. An illusion. A transition between planes. The real electrical person is released into the sea of atmosphere filling the galactic bubble.

Here the I am passes through a decontamination process. Now, the I am aura, reflecting the thought waves generated as a free- willed godling, is able to objectively view its earth performance on the low frequency cycle.

As decontamination proceeds, all the worthwhile emotional essence is squeezed from the dross of carnal placenta. This adds a slight tint of rainbow colour to the I am. A few microdots of form and pigment. A breath of personality.

I am recuperates. Debriefing is followed by rebriefing. Spirit studies the script, paying in particular attention to past colour errors; then goes back for another try at mortality.

The earth trip provides a wide range of potential achievements. This is clearly apparent when the electrical thought waves generated during earth life are separated into various frequencies.

Those who choose to emulate the animals whose skins they borrow make their greatest contribution to the evolution of the animal kingdom. In this way Nature gets a fair return on her investment in producing a suitable specimen for the earth experiment.

Life after life man stumbles and falls. Even so he gradually reaches a full realization on one thought level and presses forward up the ladder of consciousness.

Those who have feasted regularly on the "hidden manna" make their contribution to the pool of life energy sustaining spiritual thought on the planet.

It is like the parable of the talents. Each earth traveller is spiritually equal. Only the genetic and environmental detail is variable. It is up to I am to use its talent to get the most out of life experience regardless of what external circumstances might prevail. That's what overcoming is all about.

The Illusion of Separate Existence

Once I am slips out of its carnal cloak (usually, but not always at the time of "death") the illusion of separate existence evaporates.

Antinature is in this sense like a winepress, or a cream separator if you prefer - a whirling mass of intelligent energy guarding the approaches to The Kingdom. Only that which has attained perfect speed and synchronosity with the prevailing vibe frequency may pass through the hurricane and into its eye.

Each new electrical arrival (soul is probably the most useful symbol) is processed in love. The period might occupy more than a thousand earth years, depending on responsiveness to current stimuli.

Each I am-man contributes to, or detracts from the power of the electrical ocean bathing the galactic amphitheatre. For example, let us say that the sea is hot and the earth is cold. By being constantly interpenetrated by the warm sea current, earth will gradually begin to warm up. However, the electrical sea is likewise cooled by its contact with the cold earth. Yet each has come a little closer to a common temperature. As above, so below.

It is equally valid to use the analogy of light and darkness; harmony and dischord; good and bad; Christ and Antichrist; flow and resistance; love and hate. For all are one, and noe of itself is the whole picture.

Thus each returning man and woman will either contribute power to the Cosmic Sea by I am's right usage of life energy, or, if the talent has been misused or appropriated by Superior ego, the natural adversary, to feed the illusion of separate existance, they will have taken that which is of I AM and fed it to The Rival.

This process does not begin at "death". It goes on all the time, in every single now. Each person on earth is presently contributing to the upgrading or defiling of the Cosmic Sea. You are either with Me or against Me. There is no in-between. The spiritual process parallels the physical pollution of the natural air and sea which nourishes the flesh. As above so below.

In this way the "saints" who strive to conver the curriculum of the era, and even go beyond the normal tests, literally build a stairway to heaven. They are like leaven raising the whole loaf of human thought to higher states of consciousness.

Whether they are located in the "home" dimension, or off in some earthly sojourn, the "saints" are One. In toto they might be viewed as the Heavenly Host, all contributing to the music of the spheres, radiating love and joy, helping to recharge the electrical sea with their single minded devotion to "Thy Will be done on earth as it is in Heaven."

Interest Begets Interest

As returns begin to come in on the initial Big Bang energy investment, the frequency wealth of the Cosmic Sea increases. From My Central Earth location I watch the sea quicken in response to steady input from returning Saints. It is as if the sparkling waters, once vaporous, are beginning to thicken. As the Magnetic Core I draw all currents home toward Myself. The Eternal Ongoing Process.

I stand amidst My Cosmic Sea and wait: a moment's rest, then I inhale The Sea. Another pause, then I exhale. My Sonar-love song echoes throughout the Galactic Amphitheatre, resonating back from the outer limits of the play; shivering the timbers of the old, awakening the new.

The huge returning wave of breath well spent; exhaled in love, emitted pure and clear. I watch it pulling inwards from the altar, polluted now by dross and waste of man.

I see My Servants, Nature and her Mate, spread out their nets across the incoming tide. Their job: to trap all lesser vibes than those which match the perfect image of My own returning Bride (matrix).

For in the male aspect, Yang, My breath of life is as the carrier signal in radio. The everpresent silent channel penetrating all. The female aspect, Yin, is the audio or video signal, The Matrix, broadcasting the secrets of evolution to all who tune in. This process will continue until every breath returns from the dense dimension of crystallization in total alignment with the love essence exhaled.

The Mind mirror reflects the stage of development to date. Yin's perfect flimsy reflected on the mirror ports out the most pressing areas of misalignment.

Progress continues. To illustrate, let us assume seventeen thousand earth years have now elapsed since Adam. The human brain is developing beautifully. Nature makes good use of her portion of life energy. She is as much a perfectionist as I within her own territory. We operate together as a team.

Expanding consciousness is an exquisite living tapestry to behold. It glows; it sparkles. Like tiny optical fibres tracing quicksilver threads of light, it snakes happily through the dark caverns of brain, activating idle computers which await connection with a source of electrical energy to be given life.

Seventeen-thousand earth years and what have we - the Age of Atlantis - vastly improved living conditions for the native species. The elements of social law (a reflection of Spiritual Law). Reduced mortality rates. Greater variety of diet. And the makings of a valid system of communication.

A handful of stars spatters the night sky. A faint glow seems to touch the galactic amphitheatre. The returns are coming in more quickly now, as little by little the process gains momentum.

Meanwhile it is My pleasure to slip in and out of flesh to initiate and enjoy creative art in every possible way. Ofttimes I pass unnoticed by the throng, yet always leave behind a monument of grace.

God Is Dead

With each indrawn and exhaled breath the spiritual frequency, or light-power of the Cosmic Ocean increases. This power is instantly available to all who seek the light.

The collective thought power of Earth's information bank is also available. It flows in audio-video microdots of truth which permeate the life stream of energy. These are like a silent Morse code pushing to find expression, or be added to overt knowledge to provide more complex permutations of interlocking data.

In this way the matrix undergoes a constant refinement process which brings the crystalline form closer to the initial picture. All tribal translations must finally give way to a single perfect theme, or fall away to dust. For Spiritual power to animate the matrix, to give it life, is only valid in the now.

Sometime ago there was a widely publicized notion that "God is Dead". Indeed it was apparent that the animating force had broken free from the decadent structure of traditional churches. Something was missing. The people just didn't seem to care anymore. Me neither.

I AM weary of being typecast in a theologian's image, imprisoned, like some bloody relic in a church vault. A human outcast - trotted out on Sundays and Christmas for a couple of Hallelujahs! and then put back in a box till Easter.

Creative energy must have a channel through which to flow. He who flows, flows with Me. Super-ego is the square, the Big Stick. I'm the swinger, the boat rocker, the ultra modern man, the happiest guy on the face of the earth - the Living God.

A Building Spree

The Jahl essence, My personalized god-mosaic, comes in a variety of degrees of concentration. Sometimes the microdots are heavily tinted with a particular personality shade, such as blue, green, yellow, red and concentrated in a single individual or endeavor. At other times the mosaic of the moment is more widespread, among perhaps ten or more individuals who function like fingers on a hand and combine to manifest a particular facet of Mind.

Ofttimes these sudden entrances and exits are the despair of mortal peers who view divine labours as eccentricities - or even outright madness. One such visit started in 1845, when I arrived in heavy concentration to build My houses in Bavaria neath Ludwig's mortal crust.

These mansions were sealed for My Homecoming to earth in plastic-wrap of national museum status, not to be occupied by lesser tones of thought, though free for visitors to enjoy and fill the atmosphere with glowing appreciation. A mecca for art-pilgrims, a shrine for lovers of beauty.

Ludwig, My faithful dedicated frame, was God the Artist-Groom on nesting bent. The goal: a choice of fairy tale castles for My Cosmic Bride, built in a mountain place where the boundaries of the world's collide; a point of convergence twixt descending heaven and the physical realm.

Alas, I must betray a private moment on a happy day to teach the world how serious our intent. And you a young princess was groomed for the role.

Winifred was brought to understanding not through her imagination, but rather as if a mind-door opened into some other place, the real world behind the illusion. By passing through this door she was able to visit Papa-god and explore Mind.

On her return to normal mortal thought processes, the celestial halls and hills were at first clouded in stellar mists of imperfect recall, until the physical intellect was able to withstand the unmittigated glory of full realization.

Then came the day when, by jovial "accident", she came face to face with physical pictures of the places we had trod in essence for nigh on fifty years. Every detail was the same.

With this experience came the dawn of realization that the veil between dimensions, of day and night, of dense and etheric, of physics and metaphysics, was being worn away by the love-vibe of Armageddon.

Howard Hughes, though less concentrated, often helped me play a similar role and enjoy mechanical gadgets, still a fond delight.

Today man is likely to find Me out in the fields at the crack of dawn, ploughing with the farmer, silent with the birdwatcher, singing with the milk maid, struggling with the artist, swearing with an honest mechanic when he sees a miserable repair job on a beautiful machine.

I manifest in all right desire. I work with the devoted animal breeder to perfect a species, nudge David Suzuki to speak up, chatter with Malcolm Muggeridge, ski with Karol, sway with the music, sail with the fisherman, wrestle with the dictionary, patrol with the honest cop.

Much of the time My jeans are greasy, My torque awry, My fingernails broken, My face dripping with sweat. My sex life is great. My appetite good. My garden growing. My cottage under repair.

I AM the charisma of the Sincere politician. It almost broke Nikita - but Anwar, Jimmy, Pierre and the like are faring better. I guide the hand of the dedicated doctor. I whistle in surgery, hum in the lab, joke in the cafeteria, guffaw at heaven and hell type jokes. I dive with Cousteau, strive with Greenpeace, tug with the Rickshaw-man, sweep with the untouchable, shovel in the mine, wrestle with opression, comfort the lonely, rejoice with the glad.

Plain Talk

Despite tremendously high frequencies and advanced ideas now freely available, Solar power can only help those who are willing to help themselves.

This solar energy is absorbed into the aura of the god-oriented person. It raises the molecular structure of the cells to the point where the body vibrates to the prevailing etheric rhythm. This ensures a smooth passage through Armageddon. I can creep up on these like a thief in the night.

By being receptive to, and emitting higher frequency vibrations, a man is automatically attracted to higher permutations of right thinking. Therefore, if he keeps an open mind, when a student has completed a curriculum in any school of spiritual thought he will automatically be drawn towards a more advanced curriculum. When the student is ready The Teacher will appear.

But as personal power and knowledge increases, The Rival, appropriating the unfoldment and crediting it to the computer, presents even more formidable obstacles.

Each baby born is activated at the frequency of the Prevailing Ra. Contained within its spiritual matrix is the collective sum total of earth knowledge to date.

This is why so many outstanding children are being born on earth at the present time. Genius is the word mortals use.

It has long since been recognized that gifted children are not the product of genetics and environment, but rather of the X or unknown factor.

The I AM magnetic power of the twentieth century can be likened to a thousand watt bulb. In addition the vibratory momentum increases daily - even hour by hour - as the finale approaches, as the transition of matter into a finer etherealized substance takes place. But this doesn't make it any easier for these children to overcome, for the odds are still balanced equally. parents who encourage "genius" to replace "God" in the child's mind render a terrible disservice to their progeny. Regardless of its capacity, a computer still relies on the like and dislike dictates of ego and Superior-ego for its programming.

All thoughts are real. Each free-willed I am emits its own brand of dark or light Morse code microdots into the Cosmic Sea. These must remain within the immediate confines of earth's atmosphere until My Cosmic Egg is fully incubated.

Those who radiate on Super-ego wavelengths live in darkness. By emitting "dark" vibrations such men automatically attract and are attracted to others of their own kind. Together these form a union of self-seeking goals - a collective "devil" if you like.

In this way the sheep and the goats are gradually separated over the ages. One on the steep incline towards a more refined ethereal dimension. The other devolving to herd instinct and loss of reflective awareness of I AM.

This process is neither new nor secret. From the beginning each new generation has divided itself into sheep and goats, though the phenomena was less clear-cut in the past than it is today. From a harvester's viewpoint, it would be an affront to intelligence to replant weed seeds over the ages when good wheat is available for sowing. Even so the challenges match the knowledge of the age. Each earth-round is a whole new ball game; a greater test of free choice attributes as greater power plays are involved. There is nothing save individual free choice that can determine the outcome of any round.

We should know. Over the ages Yin and I have tramped across this planet in many molds and colour shadings, living and feeling as any other mortal os that era. Justice demands that we can expect no-one, in any age, to accomplish that which has not first been learned in person. A visit is always followed by the return of The Chosen Ones. who consolidate the new curriculum and iron out practical details.

Even so, during the consolidation period Superior-ego always manages to botch things up. I remind Myself that patience is concentrated strength.

I AM the Rod of Iron

So here we are. Locked together in our Cosmic Egg. Journeying from dense to etheric form through inner space. At first the transition is gradual but as time runs out the pressure mounts. The microdots of matrix dance in ever closer alignment to the Truth. U AM the Solar Generator, now revving up for yet another thrust.

Like a laser beam, a rod of iron, the prevailing ray is locked into Truth. Its sonar waves will pound into the fabric of the old till rotting timbers crack. Truth will prevail, will ceaseless strive, until the returning echo matches that which left The Mind.

Some call it Armageddon. We call it "Harvest time".

Armageddon the Internal Theatre

My Will precedes consciousness as the molding factor in every life-form. Whether it be in flora or fauna, or in humankind, the Divine Matrix predetermines the pattern and behavior modes of all creation.

I am-man is the center of creative evolution. He is the focus of MY energetic attention. His the freewill to bloom or wither on the vine of consciousness. The living water of life is offered freely to all.

Individual will, pressing on towards the light, finally breaks through the clouds of confusion to wholeness. Will, or desire for I AM, gives unity to fractured microdots of pattern, holding these together as a comprehensive pictures even while a constant refinement and harmonious clarity of evolving consciousness continues.

Those who have clung firmly to the concept of a Supra-ordinate factor have no fears of an external Armageddon. Rather they rejoice to see the speed and clarity of prophetic times being manifest.

In lower animals the nervous centres are simplified and separate from one another. This continues down the scale until they finally disappear, merged into general mass of the organism with hardly any differentiation of function, as in an amoeba. While at the top of the scale of living things, consciousness is attached to very complex nervous centres, all coordinated in a central brain. Cognitive consistency is an essential part of the smooth functioning of such a creature.

In man, consciousness is proportionate to his power of choice for light or for darkness. I AM lights up the next zone of potential growth. Man is the centre of 360° of potential action. His choice of living in a 5 - 10 - 20° thought slot, or exploring new chambers of his mind, each of which is an ante-room to a more brightly illuminated zone of consciousness.

At the very heart of consciousness man is equipped with a magnetic radar facility from which he derives the hidden manna of spiritual food. Although this radio receiving station is present in all human beings, the clarity of the messages are deflected by the distance yet to be travelled to the inner sanctum of complete God-consciousness. It is as if the solar power pack is made of a number of individual cells, either open to receive recharging power or shuttered off by Super-ego clamps.

Strength to complete the inner journey is cut off according to the degree of Super-egotistical resistance along the way. Once again the principle of cybernetics is involved. Man tunes in to I AM, gets a message, acts upon it. He might well later find that this brings him pain rather than joy. Even so he keeps going, trying again and again to hit the message dead-on. As in a dart game, the novice may hit a little to the left or right, or low or high. But sooner or later the thrust of desire will strike the perfect chord. And another battle in the internal armageddon is won.

The inner voyage is hampered by The Rival's resistance at every step. Once a message from the heavenly radar is received, it is invariably subject to biased editing by Super-ego. Like items are emotionally magnified, and dislike items minimized to nothing, unless I am keeps very firm control of the wheel and allows nothing to pull his ship off course.

Even if I am successful in this endeavor, unless a deep sense of spiritual humility is present Super-ego will invariably appropriate the emotion saying inwardly to itself "I am good", rather than "God is good". Thus every step of the way to perfect atonement with the prevailing ray is fraught with challenge.

By the end of W.W.II the electrical sea was charged to near maximum capacity. With My homing signal set through to millenium, I put the finishing touches on My radar scope, then plunged once more into a human space-suit.

More and more people were availing themselves of the hidden manna. A few key people had achieved a channel of receptivity clear enough to interpret the emotional Morse code messages now broadcasting in the universal language throughout the galaxy.

Some men still believe they think in languages. Not so. A man might speak ten tongues - yet data received in any of these is available to his total memory bank and can be re-stated automatically in any of the tongues at his command.

Likewise a good or poor education is no barrier, save when it comes to reinterpretation to others in word form. Words are a crude medium, even under the very best circumstances. They can only penetrate through the front door of mind and are therefore subject to editing. The heavenly radar beams out direct spiritual emotion.

Thus it must be that as the internal armageddon proceeds, men must primarily recharge their spiritual batteries and give way to the Spirit, rather than cling to the wordy structure through which their spiritual education has been received. Only in this way can My army of Armageddon achieve the necessary strength and unity to march as One.

Tuning In

The Cosmic broadcast is available to all. Though his sins have been scarlet, a determined reversal of focus in consciousness makes any I am a receiving channel. No-one can stop a person who is really serious in this quest. However, the lone seeker, having little to bounce his opinions against, is far less likely to have his errors moderated by more attuned thinking among his peers. Solar shutters slip down softly to cut off the recharging power of the central Sun without a watchman at the gate.

Man can tune into the heavenly radar in many ways. In times of deep distress, in sleep, during meditation, at the moment of temporary death or coma, during a high hymn-sing, and finally as a deliberate choice in the normal waking state. It's a question of focus. For most ordinary people the sleep method is the one most likely to succeed.

The ancients recognized sleep as the "little death". They paid close attention to dreams. Rightly so. Under the proper circumstances consciousness is able to leave the rigid confines of intellectual thought, to reaffirm its like with the home dimension.

Dreams convey the knowledge of the subconscious mind to the conscious. Properly understood they provide an open line of communication with the higher-self. If ego is allowed to dissect this information it will distort the deeper meaning, robbing the essence of man's innermost being.

But dreams are only valid under certain still conditions. During the course of a normal waking day a person is bombarded with impressions, often too fast for instant assimilation into the existing logic structure. This is particularly so if the identity is vulnerable to threat in any area, such as threat of losing one's job, of higher prices, the loss of a lover, raise in rent, world affairs, and so on.

Lies destroy peaceful communicative sleep. To maintain his sanity man needs to achieve cognitive consistency in his external and internal alignment. Thus the more biased editing ego inflicts, the greater the complexity of rearranging data to suit its own warped version of what reality is all about. So much energy is spent in internal rationalizing to stabilize the organism that in some cases the person wakes exhausted every day, an anxious nervous wreck.

Any valid system of spiritual development is based on love and truth; self examination to clear the incoming channel of receptivity; or blind obedience to a proven system. In the way that an approaching traveller sees a cloud of smoke enveloping a city, so the Heavenly Host observes murky clouds of thought pollution hanging over a group of people, effectively cutting off solar rays. The closer the crowding (as in modern cities) the more potent the fumes. This polluted thought penetrates all save those fully clothed in the reflective light-shield of righteousness. For the rest it is a sticky penetrative substance magnetized towards like thoughts in those around. Thus darkness is self-perpetrating. It gradually engulfs its adherents in the mire of common reinforcement by the masses.

Until recently it would have been possible for a lone-seeker, dedicated to the goal of purity of thought - one who had built up tremendous spiritual strength and receptivity - to maintain a position of isolation from thought pollution. Nevertheless, the daily ingestion and digestion of incoming thought, unavoidable in normal social or business intercourse, places heavy demands on even the most ardent of men.

At the present time, while the forces of darkness are concentrated in groups, it is near impossible to get a clear spiritual message through because of the multiplicity of interference circuits of polluted thought, particularly from the media and from others who themselves come into daily contact with conflicting vibes.

Today no individual is an isolated island unto himself. He is bathed in the dame sea of electrical energy affecting all. Regardless of whether his human interactions are social, business, familial, or sexual the same rule applies. As cold air becomes warmed by encountering hot air, so does every human interaction affect the whole, most particularly those with whom direct contact is made. Thus the enlightened man sheds light wherever he goes, just as the man who lives in darkness pollutes everything he touches.

Thus, to the attuned inner ear My call went out in Morse code microdots of a deep emotional plea: "Come out of here My People, come away. Find yourselves a place where the atmosphere is clean. Recharge daily. Learn new ways of thinking, of being, of acting. Alternate life styles, ways to break the hold of programmed slavery to the past".

Quietly the exodus began. The faithful gathered in groups together under many different names. They were often required to endure unfamiliar hardships or public harassment. The trials of Job. This was followed by a period known esoterically as crossing the desert of consciousness on the way to the promised land. Spiritual strength was built up along the way. My first fruits were secure.

Some went astray, caught up in Super-ego's "Big Stick" attitudes, where gradually the love-vibe was appropriated by guilt and punishment and lust. Yes, Mr. Jones forgot the beam in his own eye. It led him and his followers to painful death.

But this was the exception, not the rule. Swift retribution overtakes all those who claim to be of God, yet serve the devil. The mills of the gods, no longer grinding slow, are geared to fit the tempo of the times. Acceleration mounts with each new day. Society need have no fear of "cults". My own avenger guards them all the way.

Thus My Army of Light assembles. The world often calls their training camps "Religious Cults". Free now from the daily bombardment of polluted thought, culled and pruned of weaker wills by tests of faith, they wait.

As mounting pressures squeeze out the last remnants of weakness, they watch and wonder whence the word will come. The call to arms.

They await THIS CALL - the perfect wordy matrix to match the vibe of what the heavenly radar has proclaimed. I AM HERE NOW IN SPIRIT AND IN FLESH.

My Chosen Ones are trained to wipe the last small tear or dust spot from your eye. You have endured in faith. In overcoming you have won the crown of life eternal which I now offer.

Gather around My Children, first fruits of the earth. Assemble now in unity with Love, that having you safely gathered in I may give Mind Angels charge to smite the foe.

Living quietly as you have done in training camps and simple communities, focusing on Me, has freed your mind of freudian interference dreams. While it is still true that in each case the input is coloured by preconceived ideas which distort the absolute purity of the message, we can handle this difficulty in short order by the Holy Word.

The Matrix now is perfectly aligned. Each day, each hour within the last few months, the microdots formed and ceaselessly reformed more clearly as the antenna on My Cosmic Bride matched perfectly the powerful thrust of vibe, in much the same way that television picture comes into brilliant colour focus as the antenna reaches perfect alignment with the transmitting station.

Each night while you sleep, I broadcast to My Army of Armageddon the full and complete revelation of how the details will manifest. Thus the inner man in each of you is being brought smoothly into atonement - barring individual resistance factors which still can interfere.

For those with spiritual humility, who feel the spirit of truth and love aligned for action, the hardships of my scattered flock are past. Accept. Unite. Submit yourselves to Grace. I AM the answer to your quest. The time is NOW. Come be My Wedding guest.

Armageddon ~ the Dropouts

Any great battle produces a casualty list. The spiritual wounds may range from mild to critical. But all take healing time. The greatest danger lies in picking up infection from the dis-ease laden thought of fellow casualties. They try to group, to justify, console, exchange their negative. A sad and sickly state.

The label "casual" pinpoints the cause of casualties: no rock of first commandment on which to build. The summit path is narrow, rough and steep; the broader smooth highway a fool's delight, where devilish tricks succeed.

The life of Jesus Christ supplies the map, when like and dislike no longer edit the text. The path gets narrower as man approaches the summit of conscious attainment, till he comes up against the needle's eye, the doorway to life eternal. Now, stripped naked of all mortal identification, the pilgrim passes through alone.

Between the famials plane of old world thought and safe establishment within the realms of new lies a cyclical wilderness of clarity vs. confusion, with only the star of faith to guide the way.

To begin such a journey ill-prepared, loaded down with excess baggage of old world treasures, is to court defeat. "Thou shalt have no other gods before Me" is basic sense. The choice is better far to strip oneself of non-essential trappings in preparation for departure. These must all be shed alond the way. The loading makes for a weary tortuous climb with many pit stops, and almost invariably a pitfall when negotiating blind leaps of faith o'er abysses of ignorance en route.

The horror story is that as the consciousness climbs to loftier heights of vision, so climbs The Rival. Lapping up the word, he gleefully gains power of argument along the way. The lion, the calf, the man and eagle eye rest not by day or night on the ascent, appropriating all discoveries to serve The Rival's ends - yes, every step they go, until I am-man passes through the needle's eye beyond mortal identification.

If in his heart man has a golden-calf, an idol which is standing in the way, it must be put aside. I AM a solitary inner quest, demanding all desire be sublimated to the single thought - I AM. The Messiah made no secret of the degree of dedication required:

16. And, behold, one came and said unto him, Good Master, what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life?
17. And he said unto him, Why callest thou me good? there is no good but one, that is, God; but if thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments.
18. He saith unto him, Which? Jesus said, Thou shalt do no murder, Thou shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not bear false witness,
19. Honour thy father and thy mother: and, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.
20. The young man saith unto him, All these things have I kept from my youth up: what lack I yet?
21. Jesus said unto him, If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come and follow me.
22. But when the young man heard that saying, he went away sorrowful: for he had great possessions.
23. Then said Jesus unto his disciples, Verily I say unto you, That a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven.
24. And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.
25. When his disciples heard it, they were exceedingly amazed, saying, Who then can be saved?
26. But Jesus beheld them, and said, unto them, With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible.
27. Then answered Peter and said unto him, Behold, we have forsaken all, and followed thee; what shall we have therefore?
28. And Jesus said unto them, Verily I say unto you, That ye which have followed me, in the regeneration when the Son of man shall sit in the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.
29. And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life.
30. But many that are first shall be last; and the last shall be first. Matthew 19: 16-30

Mistaken man believes it is his ability to reason that he resembles God. Not so. The whale and dolphin command far greater mastery of their environment than man. Reflective appreciation is the golden key.

Appreciation is the Godly tone, depreciation and appropriation The Rival note. Once fallen from a loftier pinnacle, the dropout process breeds lynch-lust of senseless critical negative justification. This blaspheme against the Holy Ghost invokes Divine Avengence. "Vengeance is Mine I will repay" says Perfect Law.

24. And if a kingdom be divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand.
25. And if a house be divided against itself, that house cannot stand.
26. And if Satan rise up against himself, and be divided, he cannot stand, but hath an end
27. No man can enter into a strong man's house, and spoil his goods, except he will first bind the strong man; and then he will spoil his house.
28. Verily I say unto you, All sins shall be forgiven unto the sons of men, and blasphemies wherewith soever that shall blaspheme:
29. But he that shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness, but is in danger of eternal damnation:

Mark 3: 24-29

The facts are borne out in the tale of Love's crucifixion. He who had breathed love and truth with every fibre of His being, watched every word appropriated and twisted by self righteous mob comprehension. The Rival scourged, mocked, spat, tore flesh apart, and crucified, to justify its own false values, for it is without the solar power pack of I AM's theocentric core.

10. And when he was alone, they that were about him with the twelve asked of him a parable.
11. And he said unto them, Unto you it is given to know the mystery of the kingdom of God: but unto them that are without, all these things are done in parables:
12. That seeing they may see, and not perceive; and hearing they may hear, and not understand; lest at any time they should be converted, and their sins should be forgiven them.
13. And he said unto them, Know ye not this parable? and how then will ye know all parables?
14. The sower soweth the word.
15. And these are they by the wayside, where the word is sown; but when they have heard, Satan cometh immediately, and taketh away the word that was sown in their hearts.
16. And these are they likewise which are sown on stony ground; who, when they have heard the word, immediately receive it with gladness;
17. And have no root in themselves, and so endure but for a time: afterward, when affliction or persecution ariseth for the word's sake, immediately they are offended.
18. And these are they which are sown among thorns; such as hear the word.
19. And the cares of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, and the lusts of other things entering in, choke the word, and it becometh unfruitful.
20. And these are they which are sown on good ground; such as hear the word, and receive it, and bring forth fruit, some thirtyfold, some sixty, and some an hundred.

Mark 4: 10-20 To seek to know The Law is well and good. But not for those who casually come, to slake their idle curiosity, with motivation other than a firm commitment "Thy Will, and Thine Alone be done". For those who seek to share the bridal feast, the proper raiment of a contrite heart, and true humility is essential. The familiar, who think this dress is optional are left with much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

I couldn't help chuckling the other day to find a modern version of this tape, dolled up in clinical garb, laden with suitable university degrees, denoted to imply the High Priesthood of intellectual infallibility. The story was intended to alert a sleepy public to the modern menace of "mind snapping", now reaching epidemic proportions and undermining social values in the U.S.A. The authors, interviewing ex-members of "cults", "deprogrammers" and ex-Manson devotees (the dropouts here described), reached their weighty conclusions with "objective" ease. The term "In our opinion" politely paves the way, yet the spirit of psychological dogma clearly holds sway.

"Snapping" is described as a form of mental and emotional disorder, a growing phenomena unlike anything this country has witnessed. It manifests in bizarre states of disorientation, delusion and profound hallucinations. It is found primarily among members of America's religious cults, also among charismatic and Pentecostal sects of the "born again" movement.

It is caused by a sudden intense overwhelming experience. "There's a whole new technology used by these groups to engineer and concoct these intense experiences. Techniques include the psychology of behavior modification, encounter groups, psychodrama, guided fantasy, meditation and rituals from eastern religions. All of these can be orchestrated to produce a drastic alteration of the workings of the brain and nervous system. It's like a whole new drug.

"When we talked to Campus Crusade for Christ members, many displayed the characteristics of cult members. Warning signs include glazed eyes, a change in voice and posture, dropping all social activities to focus on one group and inability to carry on a normal conversation."

A recent Gallup poll showed that six million Americans have done T.M. Over 170,000 have participated in est. Scientology claims 3.5 million followers worldwide. And 50 million Americans say they've been "born again".

The "snapping" process appears near irreversible. "It is quite beyond the power of parents or loved ones to get people out of these groups by talking to them. The whole process of mind control has gone too far. It requires the direct intervention of psychiatrist or skilled deprogrammer who knows how cults work."

The word of higher law, when understood, carries the responsibility to apply it in one's personal daily life. Rather than risk the abysmal end of faint-hearted approach, tis better far to give your full allegiance to whatever golden-calf claims your desire. Enjoy it to the end, take what you can; let it consume your soul without a fight. Do not justify with smug self-righteousness your hindrance of they who struggle upward toward the light of earth's new day.

For these are My Children, groping for a way. They nestle neath My Wing. This time the Heavenly Host will not stand by, while lion, calf, eagle, and man cry "crucify".

Armageddon - the Losers

The ineffective man likes nothing better than to see himself as a powerless pawn of destiny, while at a distance a non-caring God wrestles with the devil for control of the earth Kingdom.

Man is not the victim of the gods. Man is, and always has been the beloved central focus of My Love. Man was intended to be the victorious commender of his own internal world, with wealth of mind and consciousness supreme. In choosing the path of death and devastation, he does so of his own free choice.

Upon its arrival, the infant brain is clear. All input is accepted as truth, for it has no capacity to discriminate between truth and falsehood. As impressions begin to flow in from the five senses the process of forming a basic logic structure begins. True facts fit in easily. They require no internal juggling to form a solid chain of data. Each piece fits neatly into place to form a basis for more complex reasoning.

Long periods of sleep and a relatively quiet life, make for a bright relaxed child, willing to learn, eager to assimilate.

Every lie impressed on the consciousness must also be assimilated. The child is particularly vulnerable to emotional lies, to the magnification or minimization of response in its reaching out to learn, to hypocrisy, and to biased or manipulative parental attitudes. Thus an internal scale of values is formulated.

Unless the spiritual or electrical man can release emotions to match the crystallized meaning of logical understanding the whole organism becomes literally screwed up. There is no longer a flow of communication, but a guarded or calculated response. Eventually this reaches a point when sanity and reason must be abandoned. To survive, the person learns to get along day by day as best he can, quite overwhelmed by events which confuse rather than contribute to cognitive consistency.

The spiritual being within, whose nourishment depends on solar-power, on reaching the cosmic broadcast of love, truth and wisdom, and expressing this in manifest reality on the earth plane. is powerless to push. Its battery is uncharged, its signal weak. It knows that the result will be a nervous breakdown in the computer, with logic circuits blown where cognitive consistency is absent.

The discerning eye can clearly differentiate between the living and the dead on earth today. Many people move like animated robots, zombies acting out familiar roles, silently obeying the programmed tape playing inside, telling them what to do. These are totally caught up in service to The Rival, who rightly regards these hard-won souls as well-earned. These are the losers. They have no foundation of truth to fall back on, no spiritual stamina with which to fight back, only a tissue of lies to reason with.

There are of course, varying degrees of enslavement and each case is unique. But for the majority ego lashes out blindly in all directions. The lion roars. The little calf bleats "Poor me". Intellect justifies with the help of eagle eye, who is ever alert for flaws all around.

But this is only half the tale. Eternal justice has the inside track. Love, truth and wisdom throb within each breast. Each act, each jot and tittle of response, is measured on the god-self scale within, the solar battery cells. Thus the I am self-image is decided by daily contributions or detractions, according to performance in the flesh.

At every moment the silent inner calculator, activated at conception, ticks on. Each item is weighed in terms of right or wrong usage of life energy, appreciation or wastage or the precious moments of consciousness on earth.

The beasts peer from deep inside their leprous cave. The spark grows dim, the animal has won. Black veiled to hide the secret of their shame, I watch the agony of hopeless days and nights, the acceleration of the devilish game. They burn. And being One with All I too must weep.

The god-mills grind relentlessly, aware their task is finished only when the final trump calls halt. My seedlings dropped on parched and stoney ground, I love you and forgive. The book is closed. My Spirit need no longer strive with man. Exit stage left, and let the curtain fall.

Armageddon - the Whip

The National News begins. Obediently, the common man turns on his television set to make his nightly tribute to the tube. Last thing before bed each night he fills his mind with dark opinions of the world today.

The power is in the hands of such a few. An actress, speaking of poor critic reviews of her performance, shrugs a shoulder. The question, presented with awesome respect for the printed word, "Did you read what they said about you in The Sun?" "The Sun is one mans opinion", she replies. But who believes that?

Democracy, power in the hands of the elected representatives of the people, is supposedly the law of the land. Yet non-elected power rules the public mind. The camera and microphone enable one man's personal opinion to be multiplied by millions of degrees, impinging on national consciousness unchecked. For some the media has become the message. What's left is less the plot and more the attitude.

The thrill an adolescent feels when first he slides behind the wheel of a high-powered car, heavy foot on the gas though steering skills untried, is ominous. The camera and microphone no less magnify the mote in one man's eye, enabling him to load his trip on a million unsuspecting folk with deadly aim. "Watch out pedestrians, here I come, Salaam - hop, jump, defy me not. Snap to when I command."

Sensationalism is in this sense the amount of dramatic impact which can be made on the viewer, which of course draws in more attention for the newscaster. Tearjerkers, the "human interest" note, are among the most popular. But "shockers" really hit the sensational jackpot.

For example, everyday on planet earth millions of children suffer the slow torture of death by malnutrition. Forty years of age or less is an average lifespan in many underdeveloped countries. Likewise there are countless known yet unreported cases of childbeating - turn a blind eye.

And then we have an item like Guyana - a ten day wonder reverberating shock around the globe. Wring out each drop of sensation - this is NEWS.

Unwilling to relinquish such a tidbit, the witchhunt starts. The word "Guyana" is a magic note. The more it's vague inference, the more they rub their hands, unable to stay a trickle of saliva at the jowl. The instinct for the jugular awakes.

A catch word is what's needed. Short and sharp. CULT: the magic password. Get on the bandwagon - come on everyone. Point where you will, say the magic word and power is thine. It worked in Salem, it will work again. Accuse, accuse, no need to investigate, that spoils the game - and that ain't news!

The lion now roars with immaculate enunciation, super smooth. How good am I, says little calf within. My editing is brilliant, says the man. My eye is keen to kill, says eagle-face. Release the pack. We are the main tool of composite consciousness on earth; for good or ill, we weld public opinion to darkness or to light.

Drown out the voice of reason. Truth be damned. What sport is there in holding fast to right. A whiff of blood is drifting on the breeze. John Peel is part of primitive instinct. From a find to a peck, from a peck to a view, from a view to a death in the morning news.

1. And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten drowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy.
2. And the beast which I saw was like unto a leopard, and his feet were as the feet of a bear, and his mouth as the mouth of a lion: and the dragon gave him his power, and his seat, and great authority.
3. And I saw one of his heads as it were wounded to death; and his deadly wound was healed: and all the world wondered after the beast.
4. And they worshipped the dragon which gave power unto the beast: and they worshipped the beast, saying, Who is like unto the beast? who is able to make war with him?
5. And there was given unto him a mouth speaking great things and blasphemies; and power was given unto him to continue forty and two months.
6. And he opened his mouth in blasphemy against God, to blaspheme his name, and his tabernacle, and them that dwell in heaven.
7. And it was given unto him to make war with the saints. and to overcome them: and power was given him over all kindreds, and tongues, and nations.
8. And all that dwell upon earth shall worship him, whose names are not written in the book of life of the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.
9. If any man have an ear, let him hear.

   Revelation 13: 1-9

Then there is the S.I.N. (Social Insurance Number( whip. "Come let me mark your forhead with my brand. Be slave to me and I will give you power- purchasing power. For all the Kingdoms of the world are mine today. I bring security - social insurance of acceptability. Your credit's always good with Lucifer - your Visa to indulgence. Step up and get your number. Claim yours now, buy quick, buy much, buy way beyond your needs. Just flash your magic number at the clerk. Smile at your power, say Master Charge will pay. All the Kingdoms of the world will I give you if you fall down and worship me. My silken leash sits, sensuous, soft, seductive. All I require is your soul's homage in the final day. The weakness of S, S and S. My weapons of encroachment in the play."

15. And he had power to five life unto the image of the beast, that the image of the beast should both speak, and cause that as many as would not worship the image of the beast should be killed.
16. And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in theirright hand, or in their forheads:
17. And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name.
18. Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six.

Armageddon - the External Theatre

I saw two ships sailing on the ocean. One clean and bright, with bustling throng of passengers and crew. Soft music rippled in its wake. Sea birds circled overhead. The captain steered its course with firm intent. It was a pleasure cruiser, New Era, off around the world to pick up passengers from international ports.

The second vessel, spine chilling to view, was a derelict freighter. It was thick with rust and quite unseaworthy. It flew the skull and crossbones, trying to make one last voyage before it fell beneath the welder's torch.

A spotted fever outbreak had the people aboard writhing in desperation, "Water, water, something for the pain ..... ". The few with strength to stand clung to the guard rails staring at the horizon, where ominous black clouds whipped by gale force winds proclaimed an upcoming storm.

The cruise ship lowered lifeboats into the boiling sea. Few of the many who jumped from the freighter had strength to reach safety. Then the derelict sank slowly beneath the raging ocean waves. Old Era was no more.

I watched a locomotive snake its course through rugged mountainous terrain. It had a powerful engine and a heavy load of coaches in the rear, each with a coat of arms.

Observing that the bridge beyond a steep decline ahead had collapsed, I jumped aboard to warn the engineer. I landed on the rear platform, then began to make My way down the aisle to the front of the train.

Each coach was filled to capacity. Most of the rear compartments were quite bare of furnishings. The passengers stood, packed in like sardines, patient, uncomplaining, lulled with the swaying rhythm of the train.

The furnishings in compartments varied widely, from opulence to meagre standing room. Hot arguments raged in most, as well-dressed men argued over details between sips. Waiters from teh bar hurried back and forth to keep their clients mellow with every kind of exotic drink imaginable.

Some cars were sleepers. From behind closed curtains came snores and giggles, occasional whimpers. The dining room was packed, where jewelled hands picked here and there at tidbits of a plate. Others played cards, threw dice, to while the time away.

The train gained momentum as it sped on towards the broken bridge. I hurried on to warn the engineer - but he was out to lunch. The locomotive was locked on automatic pilot. I ran back calling, "Jump, jump off while you cant". But most were too occupied with themselves to hear. Others scrambled to get their luggage. A few who heard looked out of the window, saw nothing amiss and, mumbling about irresponsible remarks, fell back to sleep.

So with a sigh, I slipped off the rear platform an waved goodbye to Earth in headlong plunge over the edge of a cliff. For no-one cared to notice or to budge. Herd instinct was too strong.

Man is not the victim of circumstances. He is either subject to external circumstance, or is ruler of his own internal universe. The external theatre of Armageddon is but a pale reflection of the inner state. The wheel of history turns, the stage setting changes but primitive instinct, dressed in a business suit, survives unchanged.

The collective human ape is on the loose. He smites his chest and grimaces, jumping up and down with furious ferocity, fangs bare. The intimidation games is as old as man himself. "Me have 367 warships. Me heap bio warrior" and the reply "Me have 368 warships. Me heaper bigger warrior than you". Thus might is right, until there comes a day when ultimate destruction overshadows each man's way. The eagle and the bear predominate the zoo, though lesser beasts are in there snarling too. Few defy the strong, for tidbits from their arsenal bribe and blackmail the smaller nations to allegiance with no thought of right or wrong.

"My oil for arms. My police state to impose on backward peasant riff-raff. Return to God's way they cry. Can they not see my noble royal estate if wisdom far surpassing that of men? The spirit of Islam is mine to administrate. Twenty bullion dollars of arms a year should make the matter crystal clear. Torture? You're kidding! We are more sophisticated here."

The "biggies" sniff at twenty billion sums. Space is their style. For who commands the skies can rain down death at will. with pinpoint accuracy.

The club's called G.P.S. (Global Positioning System), the super sextant, with instant accurate delivery guaranteed. The target automatic, the trigger a push button in one m0rtal paw, obliterates anything that floats, flies, runs, walks, crawls or slithers.

Footsoldiers of this god carry a command pack from which issue the orders to destroy. His ears, his eyes, his mind are no longer needed. Uncle Satellite tells exactly what to do. Just press the button to receive your candy from Papa State. Foolish child, this is no time to stop and think. Consequences? What consequences - it's you or them. Now let your finger gently press the knob. No recoil, see how simple it can be. You've killed a million men - What Victory!

"I've got 400 satellites in orbit." "I've got 466." One-upmanship is the basic plot. "I've got ASAT, an anti-satellite gun. Its laser beam destroys satellites in orbit by intense rays ten times more powerful than any other laser beam gun."

"Ha ha! I've got Sipapu, the sacred fire, to make holes in granite rocks. My spy satellite 200 miles away can pick out license plate numbers of a car - so there! Beat that."

"I already have. A Death Ray gun - sempalakinsk sophisticate supreme. A beam of tremendously high energy, a giant electric pulse, stepped up by a series of magnets stored for small fractions of a second. Then bang-bang, out pops a stream of electrons with as much power as a lightning bolt - 10-100 billion volts per pulse. It gives me godly power." Thump-thump.

"The nuclear age is passe from this day on. My Death Ray gun, spurting several thousand pulses simultaneously, will get inside the molecular structure and evaporate the warhead of your fleet. In one fell swoop the entire US military missile strength could be neutralized. Why the whole United Kingdom could not generate enough electricity to power this beam."

"Your neutron jelly-man maker is tame. King Kong, biggest brute in all the world. Bow down, back off, I am a TERROR, mightiest of might, god of human destiny, I rule the world."

The Twilight Zone

More softly comes the note of terror's mate. More subtle, more alluring, softly veiled.

"Had i not penetrated to the very core of man, wooed with my deadly wiles. My Lord Terror would sit less comfortably enthroned. I steal man's will. Turn respect into familiarity. Envelop all resistance with my charms. I rule the apathetic with scorn. Reduce the strong to ashes, Jezebel is my name, and human frailty is my playful game.

"Here, have a grape. A special gift of God the ancients called it because of its power to transform perception, to soften hardened hearts, cause merriment.

"Over the centuries the vines were tended with reverence. The Winemaster contributed a great number of subtleties gleaned over generations of creative art. As an infant, like his ancestors before, he was tossed into a vat at harvest time and dedicated to the Sacred grape with its unparalleled mystique.

"The connoisseur, with ritualistic grace, first savours the bouquet. Then twirls the clear glass goblet to carefully examine colour and body ere wine glass meets anticipatory lips.

"I turn this respect into familiarity, appropriate the joy. Take for example, the famous Parisian joie de vivre. Today fifty percent of hospital beds in Paris are occupied by people with alcohol-related diseases, most often cirrhosis of the liver. The average Frenchman, introduced to wine in the cradle, starts his daily infusion at breakfast. This is topped up all day in preparation for more serious imbibing during the evening.

"Repeat this tale a thousnd times around the globe. I am the life of the party, especially on holy-days around the world (the Christian ones are the best). While 'strolling in the gloamin' I'm the lassie by his side, sharing his drachm.

"I support the stumbling politician, help give tough cops their punch, keep civil servants going at the office, such the old age pensioners' bread. I am the solidarity of military mind, the cause behind the maiming auto crash, the heart of orgy, the origin of child beating, author of pornography. The mistress of a million costly accidents, absenteeism, the drain of health, I squeeze the human race dry of moral wealth.

"But this is just a start. My arsenal of mind-disintegrating wares is equally imposing as Terror's weaponry. A valium here, an aspirin there, a few amphetamines and soon they're in my care. I gently press for more release of will, a pep-er up, and then a sleeping pill.

"My favorite slaves are those whose self-image demands they sit upon a pedestal. A little spiritual humility would foil my plan. Oh how I love the self-important man. Doctors are among my favorites - their addiction rate is thirty times that of the normal population. In fact half of all known drug addicts are physicians. Suicide is the second highest cause of death in this group. And medical students keep my future bright.

"I skim the cream of human youth, get 'em while they're still young and tender. It's really very kind for you see I provide a substitute for self-love and self-respect; a mother's tender care; father's approval. We are true lovers, shameful, secret bound. We rendezvous, and oh the great release. Ice clinks on glass, urgent syringe thrusts deep.

"I wipe the anxiety from my lover's brow as conscience fades. He's feeling better now. The intelligent man. alert, aware, and keen, curls up warm and useless in my arms to dream. The beer-parlour philosopher, my friend. Inept, indulged, he babbles and complains. Commiserates, then round the circle goes, the never-ending cycle of his woes. And each repeat digs deeper yet his grave. Until the day he cares not one iota either way. The dividing like between day and night, life or death, right or wrong, has gone.

"Tossing his clinical coat aside he leaves the lab, and hurries to my side. I clear his mind of guilt. Experiments with nerve endings - that's all it really is. The screaming rhesus monkeys are avenged. Huddled down in the corner of his den his soul pleads 'Oh God no more heroin!' Yet smiling I come closer, fight is gone. My power is ten times that of his.

"I vivisect the living human soul. I see it squirm. Break down its parts with methodical precision, watch it burn. My twilight zone, at first a warm retreat, leads all but the god-anchored man to ever-deeper caverns of delight-despair. I never cease to beckon, lure him on, much like a black widow spider toying with her mate, while he, bent on consummation, plays along until it is too late."

To Each His Own

The spanish moss floats gracefully in the breeze, as daybreak streaks the eastern sky with flame. Man stands beneath the dueling oak, prepared to defend his honor, to destroy the inner foe. Only one or the other will emerge victorious.

To each his choice of weapons. This die is already cast, decided in the course of daily life. For the man clothed in the light-shield armour of righteousness, bathed in the light of love, strong in the grace of faith, without self-pity or vindictive eye, a new dawn will surely come.

4. Yeah though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for Thou are with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.
5. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil: my cup runneth over.
6. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Psalms 23: 4-6

[Chapter 11] . [I AM The BOOK OF LIFE - Table Of Contents] . [Chapter 9]