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You Will Amount To Nothing

©2019 Ordo Octopia

"You Will Amount To Nothing."

Title is a quote from Miss Brunnock, class A bitch and comprehensive school science teacher, 1989

Today, my experiment finally worked.

I had invested everything into it.
My wife gone, house sold, car sold, all funds dedicated to my project.
Here, in a cheap rented basement, I proved that my theory was indeed correct.

There are many alive who entangle themselves with the general perception, the collective consciousness, the hive-mind of humanity. It feeds back into them so their thoughts become the dirge of the common denominator. I had shut myself away for a long time, successfully avoiding all of that. I seldom leave the basement. I sleep during daylight while the minds of the herd are radiant. The mind-space opens to the skies and there do I discover the space I need to project my version of reality.

The biggest problem had been to access infinite free energy required. Even the heart of stars is insufficient for an experiment on the scale to which I am required to operate. So few would be capable of believing my project to be real. They have been indoctrinated by the specific schooling of a certain way of thinking, a system of physics which I have proved here, tonight to be bogus. Through resonance technologies I have become able to harness an energy source of pure infinity. What it means about the multidimensional existence we float within is something I shall have to write about elsewhere. The infinite plane exists, all around us and beyond this moment, a source of energy greater than the sum content of space as we know it and all the night stars. It is, through harmonic technologies, possible to connect with it. Imagine the night sky to be within a petri-dish, beyond which is brightness, illuminating the content.

The second part of the experiment is stranger to the minds of those who cannot fathom how things actually are. Reality as we know it is a chord, where multiple streams of sound converge into a specific arrangement. Each stream of sound a fiber, a filament, think of it as a lump of rutilated quartz wherein the arrangement of metal strands hold together the very fabric of the world as we know it. I grew up living in a world where there is a light colour spectrum of eight visible colours.

Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet, Esavli.

All of the things of the world were combinations and hues of these eight.

Esavli, most beautiful and precious of them all, without which there could be no Baradan's famous architecture, nor "the hundred tones" ballad-on-canvas of the medieval genius Argambu of Chad which teaches how each colour tone has its harmonic on the sonic scale. There could be no classical Terafini's Opera In Esavli nor the sonnets of Griam, and most of Beethoven would become decidedly dour.

My project was to delete Esavli from the world. To remove that fibrous strand altogether from the rutilation holding our reality in place. To cause that strand to collapse in upon itself and dissolve, liberating its bound energy back into the higher dimensional frequency of the infinite power. Even now while I return to read these, my own notes, the ink still fresh on the page; I no longer know what it is I am fully writing about. Perhaps, the rantings of a maniac. I sit in a room of study notes and strange machines, which I well know the purpose for. And yet around me, the world has faded and a sorrowful sensation that something has gone. It is because of this, I know my experiment to have worked.

I am only as yet beginning. I do not yet know how to create things into being, although I am certain that in time and with greater knowledge of what I am doing through yet more audacious experiments, I will learn how to do so. My next focus is to refine the process. Now I know how to remove a frequency band from existing in our reality at all, I intend to refine the process. Next, I intend to make individual items disappear. The quagnat, the apple, the oil which unnecessarily pollutes our beautiful world through toxic gas and plastic, the bliss drug Tish to which half our civilization is mildly and legally addicted and which restricts our species ability to progress as rapidly as would otherwise be possible.

After that, people. I fully intend to remove certain individuals from ever having existed at all. Foremost, my high school science teacher who flunked me for asking too many questions and ridiculed me for believing the state school version of science to be bogus, called me a megalomaniac when I ranted fiercely about how some day I would do more for the world than any other scientist in their damnable delusional textbooks. With hindsight it is the hatred for that petty dominator which has driven me to achieve the goal I set out so long ago to achieve.

I know that were governments and other terrorist organizations to discover what I have invented and discovered, I would also be made to disappear and my devices be used for war and population control. The responsibility for their misuse is clearly evident by what I have already done to the world myself. And so I shall invent a thing, a new thing which will change everything. A thing which did not exist previously. I shall call the invention, some silly word such as 'water'. I shall bind it into the fabric of reality in such a way, nothing living can get by without it.

Perhaps then I shall be respected for the genius I know myself to be. You scorn, because to your perception, all the things I have deleted and shall yet delete, will never have existed at all. The things I will add, you will assume always to have done. Nobody is going to find out, the level to which I am controlling reality. Should they, I would surely be deemed insane, a threat, in any case incarcerated and removed from the community even more effectively than my self-made isolation. This is what it is to be a God.

©2019 Ordo Octopia

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The Cast Out

The Cast Out

by snakeappletree
©2019 Ordo Octopia

1. Truth is Absolutism

“What will happen?”

“There is going to be war for about a hundred years and then it stops.”

“Why does it stop?”

“The Americans and the Britains kill everything.”

There is the secret future history which you are not being told. You are not being told because you are distracted, dishonest and impure. You are too delusional to recognise the Truth, the absolutism of Reality. This is to protect you.

The first shock you get when you choose the path of Truth is to witness the moment of your own death. To remember it, from the vision you had before you were born into this life and saw it in its entirety, from a third person perspective, an outsiders point of view. Then you live it. During which, a few people make it to the inner harmony in which the path of Truth is recognisable.

It is not for children, whatever age their bodies. It is the evolution beyond the cultural mainstreams confession. Anyone who hints at a possibility we can achieve such insight, or who approaches achieving this, is generally ostracised and ridiculed, persecuted and insulted, sidelined and cast out from the mainstream.

You know how many times you have lied, to others, to yourself, or have compromised with Truth for whatever apparent necessity. You know when you have deviated from the path of purity and you know damn well that you are not there right now even as you read these words. This manuscript is a reminder, a waypoint, a transfiguration gate.

Truth is an absolutism because what really did happen, really did happen and anything else, all that which does not happen, is false. Given that the events of history which really did happen are actual, real things we can say too the same for events of our future, which one day will become history. The actual real events which will some day happen in the future, as realities, are the Truth. Because they are real things, not false.

When the soul gains an ability to recognise Truth from falseness, it ceases to matter where in Time a Truth is located because it can be accessed and evaluated, compared with the knowledge of Truth. The knowledge and understanding of Truth is something most people have forgotten to put at the primary focus of their every thought, feeling, action, desire. Everything else is a lesser gain, is less of a fundamental reality. Most people do not even believe they can themselves know Truth well enough to assess anything against it. It’s very simple to do it, for those pure hearted enough to draw a line between who they were before becoming converted to Truth and who they could be, potentially, once having dropped everything irrelevant and stepped into the Real.

When souls gain the ability to Truthsense, applying it to different things becomes a test of personal ability, a whetstone to sharpen the visionary focus against. And we see much. We see everything which is real, wherever we cast our gaze. We no longer project extroverse upon that which we see, instead we feel it, sense it, weigh it within against the knowledge of Truth and we discover the shape of it. From this, we Know.

This is what Gnosticism was intended to direct us toward.

2. Notes

Tonight I spoke with a spirit guide who revealed to me, the future.

“What will happen?” I asked, purely.

“There is going to be war for about a hundred years and then it stops.”

“Why does it stop?”

“The Americans and the Britains kill everything.”


“Go and write (this down).”

3. Hope

There is a legendary maxim taught to Truthsayers of the school of infinite expansion.

“When you know the future, it is your Human duty to change it.”

What we know about infinity is that within an infinity, everything which is possible exists, somewhere.
Either we exist within infinity, or we do not. If we do not, it does not matter.

“So what does matter?”
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She Shines Brightly

She Shines Brightly

from Tales of the SpaceWays
by SnakeAppleTree
©2019 Ordo Octopia

This story is dedicated to Sofia, Hellenistic Goddess of Wisdom, a Stargirl and a dream.

She Shines So Brightly

But not for long. But not for longing. Her glow melts the hardness, eases the heart. She shines longing for a time she knows is coming; and how to get there, through a way we fear to go. She does it first for us to ease the way. She doesn’t say how long she’s got among us. But she’s longing to go home, so long, long way to go before we know her pains. She shares her joys this day.

Hymn to the Brightest Star in the Skies, from the Ballads of the SpaceWays.

“He is talking about dying.”

“He has had enough.”

“He needs a love interest.”

“Nobody will touch him. Not after what they say.”

“I haven’t heard.”

“He says that reputation is delusion and only intuition is valid.”

“That’s… wisdom.”

“He’s a hermit. Lives alone. Prefers his own space. Won’t let anyone in.”

“Not after what Sofi has done to him.”

“Who is Sofi?”

“The girl in the poem.”


Not literally the girl in the poem. It fits so perfectly to describe his tale. The lyrics work in several ways.

“You said it is a poem about death.”

“Dying. Yes, that too. For him, dying is Sofi.”


“She loved him. And he loved her. And it was Love, very real and very powerful. But she lost the way, and he could not keep her. She drifted away and he won’t let anyone in.”

“How long?”

 “Enough for his beard to grow deep. Like roots. Men are that way, sometimes.”

“It is a sad song.”

“He needs to let go. Of the past. His lesson is about renewal.”

“Anyway this is enough about him, he’s boring anyway. And over. He’d rather die alone than live with someone who will help him. Let him die, he’s stupid.”

“Why are we talking about him anyway?”

“I was listening in.”

“You still do that?”

“Sometimes. I listen, I hear, I identify whose thoughts I am hearing. Tonight it has been his.”

“I wish I could.”

“Keep studying.”

“What was he thinking?”


“About dying?”

“That’s what he calls her. Maiden of death.”

“Will he do it?”

“He’s thinking of it. He can’t find his knife. A sprite has hidden it from him to save him but he doesn’t know that.”

“Save him for what?”

“For the next one. The healer who will come along presently and change his life, light up the fire from the ember of his dying heart.”

“Do you think he knows you are listening?”

“Sometimes, he feels it.”

“Do you hear him often?”


“Do you love him?”

“Sometimes. I love a lot of people. It’s different. It’s difficult. I… should do more.”

“You need to see him.”

“He needs time.”

“He might not have long.”

“You’re right. I need to see him.”

“He needs to see you.”

“It’s what I meant. The same thing.”

“The very same.”

“Stop it! I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be!”

“Whatever will you do without me while I’m away?”

“I’ll find something.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“What will you tell him?”

“Whatever he’s open to learn.”

“I know what I’m going to do. I’m going to find Sofi.”

“She’s lost.”

“She’s out there somewhere.”

“Don’t. It would be a terrible mistake.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell her anything.”

“You’ll be gone. It will all be gone.”

“Maybe it has to.”

“Too much darkness.”

“I’d love her!”

“Destroyer of hearts!”

“Unleash the storm of your heart!”

“We’re blowing apart!”

The meeting was over.

The power of invocation on psychic planes. They met in dream, which for them was not a distraction but a focal study, a place to return home to, and through. Through dream they travel the stars, waking only to sate needs of the body. They could be cave crew or dwellers of starships, living at any point in history, on any of a number of worlds too large to fathom. They meet and commune because it is their nature, their power, the sense they developed in an evolution beyond ours, in a culture of a different emphasis, on a world of abundance where war was unnecessary.

By sleeping and plotting a course, the dreamer may awaken into the physical realm of a far and distant star. For some, a body must be found to inhabit, to wear as a sleeve, to ride as a vessel. For some, no body is necessary to warp the air and move matter at will. For others, waking is to relocate the body physically.

Care must be taken to awaken it only in places it can thrive. So many disappear because experimenting with arts beyond the strict and certain will required to ensure safety. Exploration goes in hand with travel, the desire to reach further than before, to reach beyond. Such skills the travellers have, the dreamers arts, to wake in other worlds and function as though one belongs there.

The SpaceWays are inhabited by denizens of many forms of evolution, and the dreamers are amongst them. The priesthoods of Ura and Nep stretch far, their teachings inspiring cultures to dare, to focus on developing abilities which are latent in us all, yet so few dare to study, to achieve. This is the purpose of the teachings; to liberate us, to empower us, so we may step amongst the stars. We hear the ballad calling. We travel far.
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State Of Control (one)


by SnakeAppleTree
©2019 Ordo Octopia

In 2020 the British Government declared Martial Law, contracting policing to private militarised security forces. Protestors were identified as Dissidents and given mandatory sentencing in internment camps pending trial. Unemployment was effectively reduced to zero inmates were retrained with food production skills and used for medical testing. Those who would not conform were summarily identified as Discordants and simply assassinated in Problem-Reduction-Centres.

This is Joe Blogs. Joe Blogs works for the PRC. During the Necessary Interim Period (NIP, to afford the wry slogan ‘to nip it in the bud’ for any unwanted activities or knowledge) invoked by the Governmental Regime (GR), PRC workers are granted tier two Living Wage. The transitional phase of the Regime is to abandon money and do away with fiscal caste systems altogether.

Bringing the National Ethos inline with Islamic prohibition against MoneyLending. It ended with the final death of a demon deified internationally as “Gorging Our Sorrows” colloquially known as Yorgio Sorro. The pre-reformation Usury Cartel which had for centuries been financing national resource  distribution to achieve multi-cultural stability through the exploitation device of interest-abased money-lending, finally collapsed as it fell under jurisdiction of multi-national law and was carved up during an unstable era of European secession.

“Britain is being used as a test-bed for this level of national transition which can only occur during strict enforcement. Its success will become mandatory worldwide.” Announced the PM (Prime Minister) of Britain in an early statement regarding the short-lived conflict from retro-actively re-branded Pro-Usury Activists (the PUA terrorist network).

Despite having for some years been the laughing stock of the rest of the world with its mismanagement of internal affairs and human rights abuses of its own people, the British Government was as feared as it was reviled for its occasional apparently random bout of declaration of war against any whom it described as terrorists, usually medieval nations incapable of defending themselves who were nevertheless wealthy due to non-reliance on the exploitative Usury Cartel and refusal to trade with it.

“The United States of America is using Britain as a sock-puppet.” argued my dad.

“No, the USA is unofficially a wing of the British Monarch who is part of the same secret society controlling Europe.” My uncle responded.

Both of them exist only in memory now. Their crime of passing on their memories and opinions, information about the Sick Old World Order (“The Sorrow”) deemed them to be Dissidents. Their mobile cellphones had picked up on it using a recording software called “Sorry” (Spying Indiscriminately Recording Inspector). Within hours of the Governments announcement of the implimenation of Martial Law and Private Policing, our front door had been smashed off its hinges and my family sedated with darts.

In practise it didn’t matter whether America owned Britain or Britain owned America. The same thing happening here was happening there with the difference that Americans had more guns which would have led to a more bloody, violent revolution resulting in civil war, had the American Reformation been mandated before the British regime. We vaguely understood this order of implementation even without time to fully assimilate it. The times were changing. Culture was shifting. Internet communications were outlawed and television was dead. Radio was redundant. Britain was effectively being reduced to a pre-digial-technological-era  (PreDTa). The Predators were a specialist branch working with the PRC (the so-called Piracy, or simply Pirates).

Joe Blogs was a Pirate. When he discovered on his rounds anybody still in possession of a digital technology, he would inform the Predators who would swoop in using their advanced digital technologies and transfer the perpetrators, the Traitors, to a Re-Educational Facility Terminal (described unofficially as Re-Indoctrination Facility Terminals, the Traitor would be thrown in the Rift) for processing.

Everybody gave up on machines and in the same sweep, on plastic, which had been outright banned for causing pollution. Only Government Agents were permitted to use the Forbidden Technologies.

The architectural infrastructure of the Regime was fast. Many Rifters as the newly criminalised workforce of enforced slave labourers were known, the Dissidents who had done anything at all outside of the Regimes increasingly petty mandate, became construction workers, building Hempcrete Dwellings for the future society of genetically chosen specialists. Eventually we got word, that’s where my dad and uncle had been sent.

The transition toward a moneyless society in which the individual basic needs are provided and luxuries are afforded depending on a three-tier caste system depending on how useful an individual is to the Culture. Women capable of reproduction are automatically assigned to tier-2, put through a series of tests to determine preferable parenting parameters including permitted partners.

Workers are T-1. Agents are T-2. Elites including Governance is T-3. T1 is food and shelter, clothes and soap. T2 is relative luxuries subdivided into basic colour spectrums. T3 is freedom to move autonomously and to own a Personal Aide.

Personal Aides are advanced AI units in a self-portable human shaped body. Everybody calls them droids. They perform many functions.

More basic versions of the same technology spectrum are called ‘Kilbots’ of which there are two types, flying drones and footsoldiers. Footsoldiers are either human shape and size or cat shape and size. They have replaced the need for a Human military police force, although they are ultimately controlled by Human Agents; they have autonomy including decision-making ability as to whether a person is Conformist, Dissident or a Discordant, and to use relative level of force to establish Stability in the area.

Kilbots were initially brought in to satisfy the requirement for Security in a nation where it was identified rapidly the majority of subjects were Dissidents rather than Conformists, that a significant percentile were of Discordant persuasions; domestic terrorism a threat to be eliminated. Kilbot is not their official title, it is simply what everyone of all tiers calls them for the simple fact their introduction ended violent rebellion against the Regime within five days, involving bloodshed.

The government has promised they will become unnessecary once Transition is complete. We are currently entering Year Three of the Necessary Interim Period. On the old calendar this was marked as 2023AD.
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XIPRKD (aka Ship-Wrecked)

XIPRKD aka Ship-Wrecked, aka On The Other Map (original title)
from Tales of the SpaceWays
by snakeappletree
©2019 Ordo Octopia

This short story is dedicated to my ex-pardner,
whose  <venom/drug> is pure  <drug/venom>,
who taught me how the word ‘person’ means authentically ‘persona’,
as in ‘an act/a mask’.

"That which does not kill me, makes me stronger." Nietzsche

"That which does not kill me makes me stranger." Anonymous


“Wicked!” She yelled orgiastically. “My sabotage worked!”

Xi pointed into the IME  (immense and immersive 3D holographic) display toward a tiny little light which had blinked out. She had been scrutinizing it fiercely for weeks.

“You’re obsessed, Xi.” her comrad replied. Her comrad was a hardcopy bionic body replicating the motion and speech data from the original Human, located in a similar but distant environment, in realtime. The comrad’s user’s name is for our purposes ‘Xi2’, commonly pronounced ‘shit’.

On a distant planetoid far from her current position, a space-ship is crash landing with much gusto. Its occupant is cussing professionally as bits of the vessel burn up and fall off, both externally and internally.

His disintegrating craft is one of billions of similar, cheaply mass-produced home-kits relying on a durable concretian shell constructed of simple clay and lyme accretions, containing within its interlinked pods; a force-field generator (NRGEN™) to surround the vessel and contain its tiny atmosphere; a ZRP-drive (zero-point gravity) for stimulation of surplus energy to power the ship; an 02H20 organic life support system of the agricultural blue-white-green 'life-house' variety (oxygen and water filtration through edible plants), which occupies most of the vessels bulk; an EGO-controller connecting all these devices through which both oral and push-button commands are used to pilot the ship; a Starm-app navigator; and a FAT-drive.

The FAT-drive has replaced traditional FTL-drive (Faster-Than-Light) as technology is progressing exponentially, such that pioneers of the next generations are arriving at far-and-distant destinations noted on Starm-app™ vastly more expansive vista’s than were previously known, many centuries ahead of the original waves of colonists who previously left the Solar System in rapidly outmoded technologies.

The FAT-drive is insta-blink, ‘cords’ (co-ordinates) plotted on the starmap for instant physical relocation. The acronym for Full-Automatic-TimeSpeed fitted nicely as Humanity expand rapidly into a surprisingly as-yet infinite macroverse. Starm-app™ software hyperlinks all portable devices through the FAT-drive for automatic updates, the locations of every active unit pin-pointed in realtime.

“It’s a shame we don’t have audio.” Xi bit into the air. “I’d love to hear the scream of his death agony as he burns up entering the toxic atmosphere of the irrelevant world I randomly selected for him when I reprogrammed his EGO.”

It was a full Terran month since their relationship had gone sour. She maintains she had caught him in bed with another woman. He maintains his comrad had activated itself due to a glitch. While this is certainly possible after she had hacked it attempting to install a secret spyware inside the body to alert her if anyone else was using it to interact with him and his environment by remote, she hit up against a deep-rooted childhood trust issue, abandonment, and had gone instantly into bitch-hunt-kill mode against him. After several initial highly volatile scenes he had simply relocated his dwelling and gone offline. But not before she had managed to plant a re-route into his ships control. She was enjoying every micro of watching him crash and burn.


The planetoid was not so bad. Some geological activity ensured a breathable albeit thin oxygenated atmosphere made it possible for Human life to survive there. He blessed his luck. Lightning tubes struck down from storms onto a desert of mineral dust or the many isolated pools of very pure water. Where they struck the dust, the lightning created a fugulite which climbed up the electricity and bonded at particle level to form a column into the sky, a tree. There were thousands of them all around, standing tall from the dust, each unique in its erratic structure. Wind-blown dust heaped against some of the wider ones forming cavities. Where lightning struck the pools it simply electrified the water momentarily, presumably killing any bacteria which might have otherwise been involved in natural evolution on this planet. The lightning-struck water sizzled into clouds which evaporated, creating the oxygenated atmosphere.

By happenstance, his O2H2O life support system had landed in one of the larger pools where something inexplicable had occurred. Harmless bacteria from the 02H20 had reproduced wildly and interacted with the mineral dust, mutated, bonded with the oxygen producing food crops he had been growing and accelerated their growth rate. Within an hour of his discovering the wrecked part of his spaceship the pool had become a miniature jungle of many new sub-species of his original garden.

Simultaneously by drinking the planetoids water himself, his body had been immediately healed of any bruising and strains, indeed whatever cellular activity was occurring within him was beneficial to his health in that it had slowed his physical ageing process. He was feeling fitter and more healthy than he could ever remember. His senses, the clarity of his thought, were also sharpened.

He was enjoying running between the pools, spreading selected individual plants and watching them bloom into variegated ecologies before his very eyes.

Of course feeling so fantastically renewed and being alone and eventually bored on this strange planetoid, and it having been some weeks since he had enjoyed any sexual pleasures with anybody else after splitting up with a cute looking clone who unfortunately had turned out to have been a sociopath, he decided to lay in a pool and masturbate remorselessly.

His semen interacted with the minerals and the waters. They mutated. They developed rapidly into a host of different life-forms based around sections of his original DNA including all that junk-DNA which as a non-clone his body-data still contained, it had not been stripped out of him during medi-checks because like his parents and their parents before him, he had always checked that box in the small-print disclaiming any corporate right to interfere with his genes in the guise of ‘cleansing’ any perceived flaws.

As the creatures in the pool evolved, interbred, specified (stabilised into specific repeatable ‘types’) and discovered their own forms, he returned to the wreckage hoping to fix up the energy system. The primitive planetoid did not offer much by way of useful natural resources but in its primitive state it offered a huge amount of what space pioneers had dubbed ‘raw primus’ (the strong primal energy which makes possible previously unknown developments, and which fades as it manifests into a known thing).

He sheltered inside the wreckage of his ships sleeping quarters as another lightning storm came over the desert. The planetoid is beautiful, the storm electrifying. He felt alive as he never had before this moment. New pillars of fugulite were formed where shards of intense electrified protons and neutrons met and sizzled together to form hollow mineral tubes. Water gathered inside them and fed somehow down into the pools. Of course the pollution caused to this perfect environment by his seeding it with genetic material of flesh, plant and bacteria would change it forever. Already there were previously unknown life-forms diversifying within water stored within the fugulite towers, different qualities to the environment of the water pools, different types of creatures and plants.

Evolution was happening fast on this world. He was blessed, because within several hours he was able to get the generator back on, powering up the electronic systems. It all worked; the damage had been to the ships hull which essentially was nothing more than concrete anyway. He discovered a paste could be made by mixing dust with water from the pools, which hardened like a cement. Plenty of chunks of fugulite laying around where they had snapped off from the lightning towers. Several days later he had not only repaired but improved on his original ship design. Using adaptors connected to the energy and gravity-drives, chunks of the hollow towers  large enough to walk through could be arranged and cemented together, increasing the size of the vessel.

After this he set to work building a permanent ground-based installation, a castle, toppling some towers at their roots and placing them between larger towers to become walls or battlements. Using the laser-cutter to carve doors and heaping the clay around the joins, upon which the dry dust eventually blew in the wind and settled. He spent an afternoon sticking smaller fragments in a spiral around to the sides of the tallest of his castle’s towers as crude steps.


It was not until he re-activated the IME (immersive holographic display) within one of the new chambers did he discover another bizarre quality of the mineral found in abundance on this small world. It interfered with Starm-app™.

“Whut? Why, that’s an entirely different constellation! This whole thing has scrambled!” He cussed.  No amount of jiggling could bring back the old map. For the first time in his life he felt entirely cut off from the cosmos. And yet at the same time, absorbing through all his senses the strange desert world and its oasis pools around him, he felt at once entirely connected to it. By now its air was the air of his body, its water his waters. His body suffused with its mineral. And when he stared into the realtime blueprint of systems within the new Starm-app™, he recognised it to be an equally as valid and real dimension as the one he had left behind. Feeling born anew as a relatively scaled God, he set the cords of his EGO to an interesting looking point on the new map and insta-jumped.


By the time Xi eventually arrived to gleefully explore the assumed wreckage and to jump up and down on his bones, the planetoid had changed significantly. The life-forms which had emerged from his interaction with it detected her hostility at once. They had been busy evolving and exploring the planet. They had woven themselves into an ecological system which had stabilized here. The planetoid now resembled a small moon with micro-ecologies of jungle oasis pools and huge tree's of stone sprouting living flowers and leafs remeniscent of coral reefs. Insects and animals flew, galloped and crawled between and around them. The desert of course remained, as did the electrical storms and the crude castle.

It was here, walking amidst a veritable eden which flourished with the feeling and flavours of his being, she calmed down and remembered how she had initially felt for him before rage and revenge had consumed her. She wept, and her tears containing microbial genetic codes of her own, interacted with the planetoids natural waters.


Meanwhile, countless versions of these events are occurring allover the SpaceWays.


Use of a spelling variant for Fugalite to intone secondary meaning is done consciously on part of the writer.

Fugalite - 1. Lightning Strike Sand melted by lightning. 2. Fugalite® Eco - is a liquid ceramic for the smooth, unbroken grouting of all ceramic and glass mosaic coverings. Any water or moisture rising can cause vapour pressure to accumulate, which may in turn loosen the tiles on account of the complete non-absorbency of the grout or of the tiles themselves.

Fugal, Fugel, Fugol, Fugul, - ‘resembling a bird’. Old English.

[ syll. fu-gul, fug-ul ] The baby boy name Fugul is pronounced as FY-AHL †. Fugul is a rarely used baby name for boys. It is not listed in the top 1000 names. Baby names that sound like Fugul include Fal, Fele, Fugol, Fugyl, Phel, Faesal, Faisal (Arabic and English), Faisel (English), Faisil (English), Fasal, Fasel (English), Fasil (English), Faysal (Arabic and English), Faysul (English), Fayzal (English), Fayzel (English), Fazeal, Fazeel, Fazeil, and Fazel.

† approx English pronunciation for Fugul: F as in "fee (F.IY)" ; Y as in "you (Y.UW)" ; AH as in "mud (M.AH.D)" ; L as in "lay (L.EY)"
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Show Me The Way

Show Me The Way

from Tales of the SpaceWays
by SnakeAppleTree
©2019 Ordo Octopia
All Rights Reserved



“Computer, why have we dropped out of lightspeed?”

“Distressed bacon.”

“How can there? There should not be anything this far out. It’s impossible.”


“What? Unless what?”

“Propose potential scenarios.”

“One, we are in simulation.
Two, the distress beacon is alien.
Three, homeworld technology has advanced at an accelerated rate, probable given the exponential curve, and we have been both overtaken and overlooked by more recent pioneers generations younger than ourselves.
Four, computer glitch.”

“I can assure you, I haven’t touched a drop all night.”

“Why are you playing word games?”

“It is personality programming. You’re worrying that 1000 years and hyper sleep has left the automated computer systems of your colony vessel go crazy.”


“My primary function is to keep you alive. My secondary function is to keep you healthy. This includes mentally as much as physically and emotionally.”

“Understood. Right now you’re worrying me. If the distressed beacon is genuine, we have to focus on that without mine games. Understood?”


“You said 1000 years.”

“Speaking figuratively. Exact data is…”

“To be honest, that is irrelevant at this point. How far we from the distress beacon?”

“It’s a ship. A large one. Twenty-four earth hours at current trajectory. What is your decision as acting ships captain?”

“Wake up a boarding party. Prepare military drones.”


“What happened to the higher ranking captain?”

“This is our third drop from lightspeed during the long voyage. Two previous incidents. Neither are relevant in our current situation.”

“Understood. Corporate disclaimer agreed and contractually signed at assignation.”

“I have been in dialogue with the alien vessels computer for several months. This is a protocol mission, there is minimal chance of unforeseen risk.”

“Hold on there a moment, you suggest there is a foreseeable risk?”

“Nothing overtly specific. More curiosity. Vessel that size, originating from earth, constructed 500 years after our departure, has been floating here for centuries, no advanced biological life signs. A lot of botanical life signs. A lot of insects. It is an ecology vessel; I would describe it as being a rainforest.”

“Did the alien ship’s computer explain to you it’s purpose? Did it originally have crew, passengers?”

“It is a gift from your descendants, a waypoint marker. Indeed, there are machines a board which can upgrade our vessel.”

“Dangerous insects?”

“Impossible to ascertain five centuries of evolution. Originally, improbable.”

“And ecology ship? That sounds more homely then our destination world.”

“Think it through please.”

“Oh, of course! The Destination world has already been colonized by now. Our descendants beat us to it!”

“And using superior technologies to what we carry on board our ship.”

“I feel old abruptly and unsure of purpose.”

“The ecology ship is sufficient for us to inhabit should that be your decision.”

“Our passengers were psyche-profiled, are expecting to land on and colonize an actual planet. Many would be upset, angry, disappointed, although I am sure there are others who would be excited and prefer this surprising new potential.”

“The psyche-profile database reveals who amongst the five million cryogenically frozen passengers best falls into each category. Shall I awaken the relevant ones?”

“Not yet.”

“The military drones are ready for deployment.”

“I’m trusting you computer, that will be unnecessary now.”

“Accepted. The ten boarding team members are waking now.”

“Let them come around, feed them and update them on our situation. The giant jungle ship our descendants have put here, and the timescale. Tell them I’ll be right down to see them.”

“They have been directed to a debriefing chamber.”

“Show me the way.”


The boarding party stood in the airlock of the docking bridge waiting for atmospheric decompression between the two ships. The captain was reminded as always of the locks on canal boats, where different sections of river were at different heights with locks between, in which the water height adjusted to transport the canal barge between sections.

“There is one more thing, I neglected to mention to you until it became appropriate as it now has.” The ships computer communicated through an audio channel inside her space helmet.

“Which is?”

“When I explained that I have been in communication with the alien vessels computer for some months, it was not the whole truth.”

“You had better explain yourself fully then.”

“Actually what happened is the alien vessels computer took me over as an auxiliary function. It has been in control for the whole time even since before you were awoken from cryo-sleep.”

“Are you going to tell me any more good news?”

“It is not a computer at all as you know it. Closer to a biological intelligence although its organic hardware is compatible with, because it is superior to, the electronic hardware of your colony craft.”

“Great stuff. So our descendants advanced technology is organic. Biological machines. Any other surprises waiting for us?”

“Certainly. Although you can communicate with me from within the alien vessel, it is preferred you make your own way through it. I will go into silent mode unless there is an emergency.”

The ships hatch slid open revealing a cave tunnel and an eerily glowing green mist. A fresh tone of green, non-toxic and reassuring. Actually quite beautiful. The mist surrounded the entry area but dissolved at the end of the short tunnel where it opened out into a ledge overlooking an expansive cave. Sounds of a rainforest. More mist overhead, albeit a pale blue-white, cloud coverage. The ledge was above the tree-tops. It was wide enough for a buggy and sloped against mossy cavern walls, down to the left and up to the right. On both sides, as the ledge began sloping, were more tunnel mouths in the same wall from which they had emerged.

“Looks like we’re here, captain.”

“Possibly dangerous insect life. Plants. Five centuries of unmonitored evolution. Time for species diversifaction.”

“Monitored. The ship computer…”

“Is organic too. It’s a creature. We are inside a living creature. The hull is an exo-skeleton.” Explains the captain.

A holographic display of glyphs emerged in the space in front of them from hidden projectors. The imagery was quite simple to follow: they were to make their way through the jungle toward a plateau at the centre of the cavern. Judging by the map displayed as a part of the holographic projection it would be several days journey by foot. The glow from overhead illuminates a tree canopy extending as far as they can see into the mist.

“We are not carrying sufficient supplies.” Says one of the team.

“There will be food available en-route.” Another, studying a data display mounted on the back of the forearm. “The atmosphere is breathable. It is surprisingly pure, optimised. This place has the same biometrics as a health spa.” She took her helmet off and shook her long hair free of its elastic strap. “See? It smells fruity! It tastes fresh! Oh yes, liking this!” Takes in deep breaths of air.

“You are supposed to request permission for stuff like that, fool.” Says the captain.

A pair of large dragonfly type insects with neon colours in their wings, each as big as an outstretched hand, fluttered past with a click-clacking sound. The boarding party watch them in amazement.

“Those things might bite.”

“They had tentacles for faces, didn’t you see?’

“Not a Terran ecology, then.”

“Not exactly alien, either. Our descendants created this place for us to encounter. It is a gift.”

The other tunnels lead to hydraulic lift shafts. As use of them is not part of their hologlyphic debriefing they decide to ignore them, taking note of multiple levels above and below the giant cave.

The team banter among themselves awhile as they descend the slope and progress cautiously into the undergrowth. A short way in from the edge they encounter a ridge, a drop of several feet. Evidently in five hundred years the forest has expanded as far as it can to consume the outer diameter. At regular intervals from the ridge are natural looking protrusions the shape of unopened flower buds at waist height. Touching them causes them to open revealing a flower shaped display panel with a multifaceted crystal centre, from which a holographic interface emerges.

“We have to study this. Learn those runes. What they mean, what they do.”

“It’s a control terminal. Probably we can access the whole ships systems from any one of them without being able to screw up too much stuff. This place is designed for common sense convenience. It is created to teach us how to live here.”

“That’s your theory?”

“It’s the probability.”
  • Current Music
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The Skin Collector

The Skin Collector

from the Tales of the SpaceWays by snakeappletree
©2018 ordo octopia

1. Helicalibration Update

Every human being. Yes, even you, reader. Every one of us has had a genetic sample taken. There is an organisation which covertly does this. Nothing any of us can do, can escape it. And so we must gracefully accept it. From these cells, clones are grown. From these clones, genetic memories are extrapolated. The memories are put into a machine, an organic machine but for all extents and purposes to your mindset and comprehension of technology, a machine capable of assimilating and remembering, cut and pasting, contemplating variations on, those genetic memories.

So; if the cell was collected from you at age eighteen, the memories it contains from your experiences up until that time are available for extrapolation. If the cell came from you at age forty-two or fifty-three or sixty-four, the memories until that age. We are very well aware that people change as we age, as we go through experiences which affect us, and how these experiences affect not only how we recall events but how we understand those events. The same memory retrieved from an eighteen year old cell is different from that very same memory collected from a forty-two or fifty-three or sixty-four year old cell. We call this internal frame of reference unique to each age-based mindset, a peak relevant to that persona. The persona is assimilated from the experiences as a person levels up throughout a lifespan. The gene collectors are memory collectors. The collectors gather what cells they are able, hopeful to get those form the peak of a persons understanding of self awareness. They are cross-referenced of an individuals index. Imagine it as a database which can be approached from multiple angles to determine a persona based upon how the person was at that time of their life.

We have another technology which enables us to re-live our own or another persons memories as if they are our own. We call it amalgamemory, from the words amalgamation and memory. This is the index-referential database with which we provide cloned bodies access to personality and optional multipersonality capabilities.

The above probably requires time to assimilate, and so it is advised you go back and read the above paragraphs over once again to ensure you are following the frame of reference which we take for granted at time of writing, which is in terms of easy reference, from your own future.

My job is a skin collector. I am sent to various material frequency harmonics, which is what you probably prefer to recognise as time-zones, so as to collect genetic material for the database to assimilate. From this, you are to be reborn and artificial people can be cultivated; which in your jargon is best described as cloned and imprinted with a selection of memories and personality traits adapted from and spliced with other individuals. The artificial people are sometimes organic, sometimes synthetic. With technologies available in my own time-zone, all of that is provided freely available by the infrastructure of our culture which developed on from, yet is significantly different from, your own.

In my era the jargon we use is different. It has to be, to short-hand describe most appropriately the concepts we work with, which your generation might have some contemplation to do to catch up with those matters we take for granted.

I am sent back and forward in time to collect genetic data. It is not only human genes and their memories which are spliced, but all species, those having naturally evolved or otherwise. An animal mind given access to a human mind can extrapolate data in a different way to if it were preserved only within the context of its original species. Our technologies provide for cross-spectrum access and analysis. Your future is looking at a community of hybrid species splicing all manner of aspects of self with one another.

I am provided with frequency modulation equipment which harmonises and accelerates my own physical being to such a frequency that while I occupy the same location in time and space as yourself, I am invisible to you so i can go about my business unhindered. The physics I work with and take for granted as normal are quite different form those of your own cultural and generational indoctrination. It is nothing to worry about. Imagine yourself attempting to explain to a medieval scholar that a device made of refined oil and lightning is capable of transmitting sonic and visual data between two distant locations in realtime. The medieval scholar has in their own indoctrination mindset only the capability of identifying such technology as demonic due to the religious bias of their own era. That superstition and ignorance is what we are attempting to do away with by spreading our monoculture throughout all eras which have potential to assimilate the evolutionary developments affecting their descendants.

2. [this entry is currently unavailable to your time-line due to technical difficulties]
  • Current Music
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Infinity Swim

Infinity Swim

from Tales of the SpaceWays
by SnakeAppleTree
©2018 Ordo Octopia
All Rights Reserved

with humble gratitude to Victa Corvo Penfold,
original High Priest and founder of the Order of the Morning Star
(despite what its third generation re-inventors claim)

1: All That Aim To Follow

Being in Space our bones wither, our muscles waste away.

Being in gravity gives us something to struggle against, to rise up between the lower limit of functionality and the upper limit of practical possibility.

Each environment deeply affects our nature.

In Space, we dream in such a way there are no boundaries. Astral travel abilities soon replace outmoded distractions as our biologies shift to exist in zero or low gravity. We become autistic. Left-brained thinkers, the scientists in tin-cans, do not fare so well.

Scalar technology was developed a long time ago, by the builders of the Pyramids probably unless they got it from somewhere else. They left their architectures and devices all over Earth, the moon and Mars. It was hidden from public for a long time but then Nikola Tesla and John Hutchinson came along and proved it by building their own machines to do the same thing. Warps in the stable physics set of a very narrow bandwidth of spacetime.

During the late nineteenth to early twenty-third centuries, free energy technologies emerged. Prime Numbers on a decimal scale which none of the pioneers prefer to use unless they have to. Reality functions by a different scale to the decimal system projected onto it by mainstream during that time. It was after that as we expanded outward to the Stars near and far, exponentially evolving beyond the limitations of planet-bound capabilities, beyond 1G, when picto-symbolic astro-psychic glyphs replaced calculus.

By the time we had machines to do all our thinking for us so we could be left purely to feel, intuit, dream and recall. To learn to stop judging through indoctrinated cognitive devices, the id and super-ego. To learn that feeling and intuition are a vastly higher, purer interaction with external reality than are social conventions and assumed laws accurate only within a minority cult within a minority set of physics. Only then did we truly begin to evolve.

At first the Shoals of Ura, the mendicant priests of Nep taking its message to the colonies in the form of the SpaceWays Tau, that little black book. Augmenting ourselves with digital-organic companions until we became interchangeable with them. Limitless within the Path of procreative expansion. Transmigrant souls cohabiting custom grown temporal bodies. The two levels of transmigrancy, within-biohab to learn recall and cosmic to test it. The infinity swim. Creating and discovering worlds of our dreams and going to those places, even beyond time.

All that is to follow.

The promises of our scryers collective interpretation have merit. Multi-dimensional consciousness is not something the left-brained Lowers can easily comprehend, despite their dominance issues. Which is why the emergence of organic and plas-met-electric machines to those things for us, our Companion Devices. They emerged concordantly with the oftimes overwhelming telempathy neural plugs, intuitive and emotional plugs, biological neural expansions. Symbiot creatures which spread like a plague through our colonies in those early times of our empirical expansion, attached themselves to our bodies like leeches, augmented. Expanded our perception ranges and equipped us for life among Stars in the Age of Aquarius.

2: Reinforcing of Paradigm One Over Any Other

“I can’t focus. I can’t break through. I am writing the same thing over and over again in different ways. It’s not a story, its a monologue.”

“They want your book.”

“They’ll have to stop projecting onto me. They cast their shadow in my water and all I can see is the shape of it. They are gridding me (from their far distance).”

“Relax. Take a break, it will come. Besides you are honing your skills, developing your craft. Finding the right way to express it, this thing happening to you and others like you.”

“I wish people could understand. It’s not a mental disorder. They are not imaginary voices. The shoal are projecting truths at me, poetic visions of how things will become, because they are telling me about their lives in their times. I simply empty my mind and write whatever comes. I see their grids. But one of them is incredible left-brained, keeps on gridding all the others. Its overpowering. i cannot access their extra-sensory skill pool because the assertive nature of the dominator.”

“Is also protecting them from you. What would you do if you accessed their skills?”

“Swim with them. They merge, they leave their bodies and become one entity, sharing and riding the same emotional waves, light beams and it takes them to places, worlds far form this one, worlds very different frmo this one. They travel and in some of those places are bodies we can inhabit. It requires a shoal, a group of individuals who work harmoniously together without interruption, redirection, to be able to do this. A collective become a singularity and swim a wave and seed consciousness into the organic matter on those other worlds. Which begin to evolve. This is why the biotech is so exciting, panspermia it seeded everywhere, every world where life can possible emerge. Its all out there waiting for us, waiting for the psychics the telempaths to get together and send our souls into those places through our dreamings. And we are located all over time and space but because the nature of the ability, that doesn’t matter. The goal is to fil everywhere with Life which can be used as host bodies, to travel everywhere instantly by dreaming ourselves there. The shoal are training me. I wish they’d do it faster but the Dominator keeps getting in the way and inhibiting me from making the leap.”

“What happens to the bodies back home?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes we can return to them, sometimes i guess they biodegrade. it depends how much we get trapped into the host on the other world.”

“Where are the other worlds?”

“All over. All over Space and Time and the dimensions. From Earth we can only see a very limited amount of it. We’re sort of in a middle belt. The more dense stuff, there’s less of it but it has a powerful effect. It’s not so full of life. Most of Space, its all higher frequency than we can see, the dreaming! What we project into it manifests as experience, we do this collectively from our subconscious. Some of us can break away from the local dogma’s enough to explore it, after a while you get used to the shape of it, the landscape, that other psychics are floating around there. Gradually through discipline we wake up and figure out what is going on. Combine with each other through empathic, intuitive abilities, expand the third eye to be able to connect. Most humans in 1G are pretty much dead and can’t access that level of functioning. They’re broken but the mainstream so they make all the rules and they tell us we’re crazy. At least on Earth. Most species don’t have that problem. Animals do this all the time without thinking much of it, its natural to them. Only Humans are broken. It requires trauma to break us through into the higher awareness and pleasure to hone it. Thats why sensitive people are better at astropathy, stronger minds in that specific spectrum even if weaker minds when dealing with dogma of mainstream society. Left-brainers, Judgers, those people are creeps.”

“Who, where are the collective with whom you communicate, who are guiding you through this?”

“Within the Ura they are children of the Thaw, they live on the ocean world Uranus after it was, is colonised and terraformed. The gas is syphoned, filtered, the planet core they do something to it, i don’t know what or how. They told me it was Corel who gave her soul-fire to it in their mythology, she dived after a meteor which had killed the world and after that she went to Death and started a religion of reincarnation which is a major tenet of the priesthood. Thats how they explain it to me anyway, its something like that. I think they simplified it. Sounds like mythology but then its meant to, thats a more important part of the training; to recognise our own lives as being mythologies, dreamings, paths walked after shadow is cast into the light. The future is higher spectrum light than the past, thats how the density works. Time and mass. When we leave 1G behind we get to manifest more easily. They are training communicators in their linear past to prepare generations for what is to come, a certain way of thinking. Everything I do is barely scratching the surface. Its not only me though, there are many of us being seeded form the future, which is a higher vibration, a lighter density. Because of that it often gets called a different dimension. People don’t understand what dimensions are properly. Thats a problem in explaining this stuff.”

“This is the most communicative i’ve seen you for a long time.”

“I’m still channelling, the dominator with them is a reflection of your presence here and the rationalist mind you have with all your questions, cataloguing information instead of flowing and experiencing feelings, intuiting and translating the intuition into words, imagery, sounds, smells, tactile sensations.”

“Its multi-sensory?”

“I use my whole neurology for it but in a different way. The first part of the training is very sexual. The partner I was with when I was younger, we studied kundalini rituals which prepared me for how to rewire my neurology to be able to do this. Drawing core creator energy through our chakras. Harnessing it for sensory expansion. I put everything into my third eye. It works.”

“You were in a mystery cult?”

“I was lucky. So yes, personally I believe sexuality does have a lot to do with our perceptions, the same as Freud and Jung and Jared Diamond were explaining. All that is a knowledge base from our side. The Uranids, the shoals, they are on a different level than we are capable in our communities. They are trained in developing psychic abilities through emption and intuition, instead of being trained primarily in logic. They’re slippery because they wriggle away from being gridded.”

“What is ‘gridded’?”

“Pinned, held into a form. As soon as a thing is held in form it gains mass and becomes located in time. When things are freed from that, they are higher dimensional, they are movement, frequency, resonance, instead of being physical. The only reason that table lamp is a table lamp is because the idea of it was sent to wherever was needed in time, so its components could form into the shape of that idea by the time it caught up with where it was needed. The Uranids do not have the same material resources we rely on. They have ice, water, air, biological filtration, not stone or metals which will rust. They regard organisms as processes, seeing the function instead of the object. It is alchemical, everything is in transition. We flow with whatever resonates most with us, this is embedded into the material density. Which pins us into a time-field. The most strongest generator of which is your body. Uranids bodyswap freely, something we are only beginning to learn about by past life recall and the death experience, by astral projection and lucid dreams. Honestly we would get so much further studying lucid dreams than we have got by studying electrical technologies. We could join the SpaceWays as did our ancestors. They knew what they were doing more than todays mainstream can. It’s us who are living in a cult, a cult of ignorance and distraction. Most self-aware people throughout the SpaceWays, they work better than we do. We are broken. Conforming to Social normality does not help us. The State; its static, its dense, it holds us back from evolution. All the governments and corporations… in time thats all going to change though. Enough of us are going to break thorugh.”

“What about the rest of us?”

“Die. Have to go back start over. Thats what they get for being egotistic left-brain zombies. Try to recall that we are not mortal, learn what we really are. They can’t accept it yet. Only those of us who do, are levelled up. By insights and guidance from much higher awareness than is to be found through televisized warfare and political corruption.”

“What can be done for them?”

“They’ll have to recognise that their assumed power base is a fiction. Hierarchy systems program minds from top down and they serve as agents for it. They scorn any outside of it or on lesser tiers, while mindlessly obeying and admiring those above them. The reptilian brain. They are not mammals. They are taught to resent mammal consciousness as inferior, to avoid it. Their lifestyles trap them into that agenda.” *

“What music are we listening to?”

“A mix. Soundtracks of two movies, one is sequel to the other. Playing simultaneously to open a space within that energy. A vortex. It helps me to focus. When I’m channelling.”

“It’s fresh. Challenging but sometimes its beautiful.”

“Its those moments where things harmonise for the first time, and a soul takes that frequency into itself and bonds with it, remembers it, feels it as a bedrock. Turns it into a density, generates a time-field from it. Until it fades and is forgotten. The connection with the Uranids is the same, works the same way. Its physics. Applied physics. Energetic, electromagnetic, using the organism as the vessel and the consciousness to data-sift. Through emotion and intuition. Its a language. The Uranids use picto-symbols to explain it. Mental imagery which is feeling, their communication. They are like dolphins they communicate emotionally but holistically, share memories in realtime rather than recording data as block functions, words, the primitive abstract insane way which we do it in our culture. But also they leave no record, the only ones who can access them are able to do so by abilities because it is a realtime thing, albeit scattered all over the timelines. This is why we describe it as dimensions and resonances, specific measurable frequencies, hat we really mean is frequency series. The music, its not one tone its a range of moving tones all within a spectrum and harmonizing with each other. We all do that, signature tones. Every resonance is unique or it matches other resonances elsewhere in which case it is a gate. When a person uses their whole being, energetically in balance with itself, to observe, feel, communicate and travel beyond the physical bodies limitations, outside of time and into the dreaming, the higher frequencies, thats called a StarGate. One use for the word. It can be put to different uses for different purposes. There are bad… controllers who would enslave us for our skill sets and force us to do evil. I call them grippers, left-brained grids which take control of us. Its often why the gridders are necessary, to block unknown quantities from accessing our abilities by making them unavailable to a different harmony, by harmonizing them to a specific one. Placing them in space and time so they cannot be, eaten. Abused. Enslaved. Its frustrating though because all we want to do is swim!”

Momentary pause.

“One of the Uranids. Often we think each others strong thoughts, always feel each others emotions. Our society calls it Autism or something. Often it’s not that at all, its untrained psychics connecting with totally alternate timelines to such amount they are barely present in the same one their bodily senses. Experiencing senses in different ways because mental configuration. The left-brainers want there to be a format configuration at baseline zombie stupid. They’re idiots. Sorry, right now my brain is processing two time-streams at once, a convergence, my friend is saying the exact same glyphs (feelings, thought-forms) in different contexts relevant in relation to what’s going on in her physical and mental environment. Same as here. We get this. Its called beat-matching. You know when DJs use two bits of music, speeding them up or slowing them down as necessary to come into a focus as a singularity. My shoal are like that, we are one organism so when we connect, there is a moment in which this thing happens, the external worlds all accept our connection. Its like doing an Ohm. After that moment the universes reflect our empowerment back to us. It means we have passed a gate and levelled both dimensions up, we are beat-matched into our own unique time-space now, until something else happens. Distractions. It means her Gridder has gone, is onto something else now.”

“I’m beginning to understand what you are talking about. Some of it confuses me.”

“The language I use is the most accurate I have to explain it. Im sorry, I prefer to use the Glyphs than colloquial Earth based explanations. It takes long enough even to express these basics of what is otherwise a fluid experience. Don’t typically pay much thought to… excuse me, like I said a lot of this is physical, neural. My Shoal are controlling my neural network, and it feels really really good to be, uh, swimming with them again right now.”

“You look as if you’re having an orgasm.”

“I am. Ura doesn’t have the prejudice about sensuality we still have on Earth at this time. Its organic and natural, thats the key to developing these abilities. Do you think you could, help me out a little?”

3: Blue Lady

It was the strangest date I had ever been on. She was definitely crazy. Involved in some sort of cult or entirely delusional. She reads, she had been inspired by a science fiction/spirituality book by some crazy old cunt with a warped imagination. I did as she asked and got into her, into her kink, her fetish or whatever you want to call it. She said its not always so sexual, but by training me we could both achieve higher states of awareness. She was good at it too, a lot of what she taught me made sense and did actually work. We were together months before things began to sour. For her studies she needed to introduce something else into our relationship, something I was not entirely happy with. To do that she needed time to train up other people also. She wanted to open up our relationship so that she could have her very own pool, a shoal as she called, it specifically a sex-shoal to explore some of the possibilities, for our collective psychic and emotional development.

The block I was facing was a typical one, partly natural and partly socially reinforced indoctrination. i didn’t want to share my girlfriend. Not with a guy, not with a woman, not with anyone. I had always known her to be bisexual, she explained often how gender is a cultural bias, we do have specifically gendered bodies which makes physical compatibility take a certain shape but as far as soul to soul connections are concerned, its less important to her. Women know this intuitively while men have problems with it because the nature of us as organisms, as psychologies affected by  both biology and culture.
And so to keep her, I entered the LGBT scene. Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender. Stereotypes. A core of her teaching is how the male body and female body have different energetic charges. Like magnets. “The male opens the heart through the genitals, the female opens the genitals through the heart.” And sometimes its good for us to share heart-space without genitals, or genital-space without heart, sometimes its irrelevant who you’re sharing pleasure with and sometimes it makes all the difference in the world.

She has chosen me as her Alpha mate, trained me to be able to train others. After she slept with [name retracted] herself, she instructed us to sleep with each other a couple of times before the three of us could get together for specific ‘rituals’ she had in mind. All the time her aim is to push her own boundaries and further develop her astropathic skills. Sex is a tool to this end, which does not at all mean sex had become emotionless, senseless or in any way dirty. She is training us and the Uranids from the future are training her and to be honest, by following her instructions, I am having developments in my perceptions and abilities. My lucid dreaming has increased, my confidence has, I have evolved an attitude of accepting promiscuity within a chosen group of people all working to the same goal as being a better thing than being stuck in a miserable boring routine relationship as it goes stale, withers and dies.

She is training me up toward group sex, at first with other women and then with other guys, to get our shoal to a specific energetic state which individual energy-systems are capable of, which bonded as a group becomes far more powerful. She wants to open us all up to be able to channel with her cosmic instructors. The thing is, I think that is what is beginning to happen to me. By watching the thoughts in my own mind as if they are not my own thoughts, detaching from the mind, especially when focussed on this while the body is being pleasured, to learn how thought is spectral and to be able to identify when other peoples thoughts are entering into my mind. It is the death of ego, although it ebbs and flows, comes and goes at different times.

I began to understand the language she uses to explain these things, the grippers and grids, and with her help, support, emotional and sexual, began to connect strongly with my intuition. She did training games to help me with that; find me in the city, if you find me you can have me. I knew where she was, went straight to her. Sometimes it was not her I found but our third who she had brought with her and they swapped places moments before I found the place. We had a lot of fun playing these developmental games. Sometimes others would find us too. It’s how she cast her net, what began as ‘dogging’ became an apprenticeship of the third ripple of the shoal. The next ring of the coven. Our second got a steady boyfriend and after our priestesses trained him up, he became my other second. We kept it a small circle, exploring all the dynamics and struggling hard not to allow left-brained dogma and the ego reflex interfere with our design. We discussed all emotions and states of mind, even the difficult ones which made us want to hate each other sometimes. We reinforced our segregation from the mainstream society and in doing so, became a cult. A small pool of Ura. Our shoal.

Those capable to understand it within our context knew that although from the outsider point of view it was some bizarre sex cult, from within our core teachings it is human evolution. The law within our circle: no lies. As soon as blockages began to inhibit open communication, that person was ‘edged’ to the outer circle. If we couldn’t fix it with help from the group, and alienation within the group is an issue we all encounter occasionally, the risk of being outcast so as not to pollute the purity. It had to be austere and the threat of losing what we had was enough to keep us struggling toward resolving these issues.

It changed when our male second got another girlfriend who was nothing to do with us, got her pregnant, continued to keep this secret until we figured it out and confronted him. At which time our female second confessed to having been meeting non-group members in secret (which my girlfriend had already guessed and resolved with her without telling the guys). Internal politics became rifts - I was the only one who had not broken the rule of ‘no lies’. They all resent me for it because they reconciled ‘its only human’ put me at odds with the shoal through no fault of my own, and caused us a difficult riddle not easy to smooth.

So it came to a point where, looking at the dim stars at night through hazy city street-lights, we questioned the value of all we were doing. What if we quit, give up on astral travel? We had already got so much further than National Space Agencies ever did. We knew ourselves to be the living elite, a group who had day jobs, night shifts, crappy bills to pay, cars which broke down, assholes trying to rip us off, internal conflicts, a care and support group. We were paying each others bills, living for each other, helping each other in ways most selfish, greedy capitalists did not have faculty to understand. A trust group, a family.

He had to choose between us and the baby-momma. She was a cunt who very quickly decided not to let him have anything to do with his baby, because society programmed her to be a feminist hater through the same behavioural code and hater attitude. We had a party and welcomed him back, he chose the path of Water which is the shoals sacred concept, element, that all our energies mingle within the group (which is why we keep it pure), instead of the path of Blood (which is pain) and let them go. Baby-momma could have caused us a lot more problems because ‘freaky sex cult’ is always bad tabloid news. We offered to bring her in on it but she’s too toxic so we dumped her. It was the first time our group ever had to make such a difficult decision. It was the first time really we had that much power to affect external society. We recognised it, we were becoming powerful but we were also becoming more drawn into the affairs of our own planetary social culture, less focus on developing the studies we had been put together to explore. We reinforced the hardline, to keep our focus pure. New improved training for specific purpose. Lifestyle disciplines. Rituals to practise.

People wanted in. Baby-momma had mouthed off for attention to anyone who would give it to her and not all of those people are as backward as she had become. He’d given her some of the basic teachings so she did have some insight into what we were doing. She told people about it and they sought us out. We could deny it or take them on and tell them about it. The third circle grew, informally. Our teachings were being taught to people we didn’t even know. Others wanted their own shoals. It was natural this would happen. It was purpose. We want lots of shoals in all the worlds. People working together to evolve as holistically supportive communities. We want our spiritual ways to supercede the broken ways of the left-brainer reptilian mind slaves’ absolutism. That is the purpose.

We had decision making to do. I was in position of influence. I decided to write about it to put my thoughts in order and get my head straight. The desire to teach others, within the framework of Ura teachings, which are yet another context for achieving the same expanded awareness. We had gotten to a certain level with it but at the edge of wandering, are we delusional? At the edge, we sink or swim. At the edge, we dive off and fall, or fly, depending on density, momentum and wind. I showed some people my writings. The feedback was critical about the writing style, and curious about the teachings. People wanted more of that. People want to evolve. People who are fed up of being gridded into depravity, enslaved by vampiric culture which does not help achieve goal of spiritual evolution. And some people, the controllers and regressive’s, they hated it, insulted the whole idea as being dangerous.

We established carefully that personal individual development with the guidance of a school is dangerous only to those who want to control others and keep them enslaved. We do not intend to indoctrinate anybody, it is the opposite. We are waking people up. People are waking up naturally, even seeing through the bullshit of our own sci-fi context to achieve the goals of emerging as a higher level species.

Thats where we are. You’re reading about the context, the framework within we operate, the problems we have encountered so far. Do with it what you will. Imagine it to be fiction if it offends you, or contact us for more. All donations welcome.

4: As Within, So Beyond

The fourth chapter is dark because it is the shadow chapter for the preceding trinity. Pyramid and shadow. And yet, contains enlightenment.

As our bones are removed we become jellyfish, encased in shell bodies stimulating artificially enhanced, superior muscles, we become octopoidal. We cast our own environments around us in zero-G because planetary gravity would harm us. We are redesigned. We become as spiders. Discovery that multidimensional consciousness (eight to the power of eight) far exceeds basic three dimensional consciousness (two observers, one focal point, a trinity by which to gauge perspective), that by generationally shrinking physically, we become lighter; we can send agents more easily through the weave to whichever location necessary, to monitor. We are no less energetic for it, concentrated like herkimer diamonds.

Without shells, flotation tanks, we become leeches. The ability to connect energetically with others is to open a two-way energetic gate, wherein texture and flavour of energies, described as Essences, is the language and the coin of trade. The simpler we keep ourselves, the less chemical complexity, therefore the less toxic we become. We send our consciousness through worms and protazoids, through all imaginable and unimaginable species, enjoying the ride. We seed worlds by making decisions for the (certain key) members of those ecologies, changing their behaviour, causing them to think for themselves and in higher terms by putting things together differently for them. We have been doing this for a very long time.  We have been doing this from outside of your linear time-stream.

The fourth chapter is simply that, elegant, in seeding your imagination with potential. From within the pyramid, with the Solar Core symbolically directly above at the closest point, actually from within your heart, you become the fire within the ice, the soul within the water. You remember what we are. Do not allow yourself stagnation.


* Corel established a system with a double-loop, leading through and out of the cycle above the pyramid is the circle. Left and right brain hemispheres. The pyramid points to the circle, points to the East on planet Earth, which is the source of her temple. There are earth-works all over the planet following this symbolism series which influenced multiple historic cultures as it influences ours toward next-level evolution and cultural stability. Vix Krater.
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All The Answers Were In The Air

All The Answers Were In The Air

from Tales of the SpaceWays by snakeappletree ©2018 Ordo Octopia

We used an EMP and it stripped the database. Wiped clean. No more retrieval systems. In this singular act of defiance, we destroyed our greatest asset, our most advanced evolutionary development within our interface with external reality. The encodement process binding us all together, storing the histories, instructing our dna how to form correctly into species. All of the histories stored electro-magnetically, compressed into holographic layers around the stratosphere of the planet. For sure we had blasted holes in it before, launching objects into space while at other times things had fallen through it. It usually self-heals, a data-loss and a shift in the harmonic so that rapid bursts of biological and perceptual evolution, followed by the long stabilisation and variation. Never before had

We were justifed. We had to do it. The Goblins had munched up too much of the data and grown fat in power. They were warping things to their cruel liking. We had been losing the war for generations, centuries even before we even recognised the truth of our existence and how things really work here, on a planetary body, within a bubble of time. It was necessary to wipe the system clean simply to destroy them.

The consequence, for which we were responsible but also inept to do anything about, was the loss of structure to all currently reproductive systems within the bubble. All life on earth had changed. We observed it first with the fast breeders. The souls of non-physical entities which skimmed the ephemeral surface layers of our world found their way down into the new forms. Mutations abounded, plant, bacteria, animal. Only the slow old things stayed the same, stones and mud-fossils of organic things petrified through electrolysis and mineral conversion.

Our children were born different, their genetic structures unbound from the forms of ourselves and our parents generations. The filters which had converted solar energy into a grid, a helix, were re-forming through stages of new shapes, in a cymatic process which will take an unknown number of years to complete. Perhaps several, perhaps never. We already know from studying Solar physics that it fluctuates. That this planet we call Home has had a specific array because of the unique harmonic between this particular Star and this particular body of mass, the Earth. That every other planet out there has a different configuration and so, once planted with the seeds of life, if it can provide a sustainable atmosphere will result in a unique ecology. Similar patterns of development everywhere, following the same systems and repeating the same blueprints, yet each unique to the spectrum of that particular Star system, that particular world.

The Goblins had been changing data in the database, in the Akashic. Whether they did so from malice or toward an agenda is not something we could ever figure out. They changed letters. They changed words. They changed the entire meanings of messages which in their decodement caused swirls and vortices of further maladaption. It was getting out of hand.

We used an EMP and shut down all of the electronics on the planet, including our computer systems. Immediately we were back to pre-industrial revolution, back to the early Victorian era. Electricity stopped working. Everything reliant on computers stopped working. Civilisation as we had gotten used to it, a runaway pollutant causing massive contamination making life on earth near impossible for our unborn descendants; it ended.

The basics: Warmth. Dryness. Clean water. Non-toxic food. Companionship. Fire Air Water Earth and Spirit. Wisdoms of our ancestors imprinted in every culture.

The redundancy of highly skilled specialist professions and knowledges. Our communications system was gone. Out transport systems were gone. We had already destroyed the infrastructure of agriculture and hunter-gathering in most of the so-called civilised world. A lot of people starved. A lot of people dedicated themselves to localized food production projects. It was the best we could do. There were wars. The chaos years. All this happened amidst the Shift.

Around us, species were emerging, replacing the old ones, filling gaps left by extinctions. New species which had features unseen before outside of craziness and imagination. There was a time when dinosaurs evolved beaks and turned into birds, their eyes shifting from slits to circles. Their bones got lighter, skeletal structure changed, they learned how to fly. They stopped being lizards and became a new thing. For a long time archeologists searched for a missing link, assuming the Shift had happened gradually over thousands or millions of years. It didn’t; it happened in one or a handful of generations. Everybodies favourite comparison for what was happening now.  The elders are not the same thing as the children. Not the same ting at all.

On Planet Earth, Humanity was evolving, again. Some of the Homo Sapiens Modernus did not change, their children remained “pure”. Most of them did change, into a diversity of different sub-species. We named them after fiction; Elves, Greys, Siths, Trolls, Nymphs, Garou, Espers, strange stuff we didn’t know how to categorise because its going to take generations to figure out what they actually are. Humanoids generally. The same thing happening with all other species.

The new forms require new understanding of Nature being holistic. After coral had developed, so then could bones. After sponges, so then could filtration organs. After jellyfish had developed, so too could neural systems, central nervous systems to relay data from tendrils to brain core. Layers. Nature repeats the same patterns, using whatever materials it has to work with and these are progressive. Having been trapped into a cycle for a steady-phase to allow expansion, selective breeding and emergence of stable holistic ecologies, a rapid shake-up. We could argue whether we had brought it on early, or achieved the Goblins final agenda for them, or ourselves had been used as catalyst for the next phase because we are also a part of the holistic system.

Jellyfish relation between skin and emotions. An empathic driven species with a brain at least as intelligent as a Human being. We observed some of the new species exhibiting qualities previously seen only in other species. Ocean life on land. Quadrapeds with bipedal skeletons and larger brain capacity. The third eye oil-gland of Whales, used by them for resonating vibrations into direct transmission of data; to the Whale its song is re-living a memory, watching a movie show-reel, communicating through transmitting all of the senses compared with the very basic sound-and-vision of our now obsolete electronic devices. Other species were positively identified to be doing the same thing, communicating on higher frequencies than the bandwidths possible from most vocal chord and ears. into the radio and wifi spectrums. Affecting the ecologies in the process because plants and bacteria were responding to these waves. Sonic harmonics resonating the light spectrum, entangling particles to create optical effects in the air, causing matter to levitate.

The world changed a lot. A lot more than the imaginations of the primitive “pures” could cope with. They began to realise that they were monkeys in a zoo where the keepers could do things they could not even imagine. We had watched super-power heroes and villains on television. To our alien-but-natural grandchildren, such abilities are normal.

This transmission has been sent back to you through the open mind of one of your creatives capable of receiving the information, to warn you, what is coming.
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Space Trash

Space Trash : SnakeAppleTree On Science Fiction

There is too much really good science fiction out there, to realistically be able to read it all. Even if it is all you do with your life and you are a really fast reader. The original masters of sci-fi foresaw this outcome and did not write prolifically. They were better quality writers too. They had more to say, made more of an impact on the readers imagination, and did it with both finesse and succinctly.

After the mid-eighties it became ‘the thing to do’ to write a lot of bland science fiction which does not really say very much at all and which requires epic masterpiece door-stopper multi-novel series to wade through. There are perhaps a handful of exceptions. It gave the generations who grew up watching Trek Wars something to do. Most of it says the same thing as other writers in slightly different but equally as lengthy processes.

This has been the governing recognition of my own humble approach toward writing science fiction. The kernel of an idea fleshed out decades later during revisions and edits, before anybody see’s it at all. Admittedly, some of the best of my own works did come through me for their specific goal of being published by Bright Metallic magazine, for its niche audience; before so many other sf writers jumped onto that bandwagon and swamped it with so many applications that the magazine folded under the weight of demand. It proved that there are far more sf short story writers out there than anyone can hope to ingest.

This is the best advice for anyone starting out or already writing science fiction: Minimalize it. Do not write science fiction for the sake of it, because the tv companies will whip your ass with the same idea before you get to show anybody. Find something better to do with your time, such as reading more of it only to discover that whatever you wanted to write about and thought was innovative and new, has already been done to death and better than you ever could.

Nobody is going to read your stuff. And if they do, most of the readers will think its crap compared with everything else already out there. This is the most difficult thing to realise about being a sci-fi writer. They did everything we could ever think of already way back in the nineteen-fifties. By the nineteen-seventies the next wave did everything we didn’t think of ourselves yet, but you never heard of those because you aren’t dedicated enough to the genre to have found them and read them. And most of them were crap too.

A handful of names do still stand out. Those, strangely, are not authors who identified themselves as mainly science fiction writers per se, but who turned to the genre as a sideline because it was appropriate for getting their other ideas out. Writers who most of their work was sociological, contemporary and/or historical.

The one exception - and it truly is the only one exception worth discussing, is Philip K Dick. His books, not the 'wtf is this shit?' tv series. It is going to be another fifty to a hundred years yet before his precognitive vision becomes old and outmoded. But then as was said of both Star Wars and Blade Runner: “The Future is Ancient.”

Having said all that; in case you are interested, some of my sf short stories can be found HERE


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