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SAY I'VE NEVER SEEN A RADIO OR EVEN HEARD OF ITS EXISTENCE.
Say someone asks me to help them build one without telling me what
I'm doing. They have a bunch of strange looking metal parts, some
screwdrivers, wires, crystal, and cryptic diagrams. I hand them this and
that part, I clumsily crank the wrench and twist the screwdriver, and watch
as something miraculous comes together. The parts all seem to fit, lights
flicker, and a strange voice comes out of it, all on its own!
WOW. Magic.
* * * But then they leave, taking the diagrams and toolkit with them. The
only piece of information I'm left with is that this box enables something
called "long-distance communication." Cool--if only I knew what those
wonderful words meant!
But I don't know how to operate it, or change the batteries, or
build another one. And I'm obsessed--this box can speak! So I try to build
my own, and try and try and try.
Here, check out my fine collection of strange boxes I've banged
together: some make lights, and some even make noise--though no voices from
far away. I show 'em to all my friends, they think its sooo rad, and set
about making their own, each a little less like a real radio than the one
before. Radio-making turns into a craze, a scene, a movement. Everyone is
making funky little "radios," and "long-distance communication" is what we
all swear by. Even though hardly any of us has actually experienced it or
knows what it's supposed to mean.
We, the radio builder's assistants, become famous, and quickly
forget the radio-builder.
* * * Imagine you are a sphere and you enter a flat world of only two
dimensions. Imagine the beings living there know nothing of a 3D+ world.
What they see of you is a circle, maybe an oval. And for them that is all
you are, a splice of your true shape and meaning. You laugh at their feeble
attempts to fit you into their world. You whisper the words "round" and
"sphere" to them, and all they see are little curvy lines.
* * * Well, Suppose there IS an Intention of Greater Dimension that many
of us share. Suppose our Intention only makes sense in a vastly expanded
scale of time and space and perception. That it implies a knowledge of the
complex weave of activities of many intelligences of many shapes and sizes
and purposes, a knowledge impossible to translate into the self-enclosed
vocabulary of 2D society.
Suppose further that we exist under an inherited and continuously
maintained psycho-cultural-genetic blanket of disinformation, distraction
and delusion.
Suppose yet again that some of us have come here to "build radios."
Suppose that we know instinctively the diagrams, the tools, the principles.
And yet we must operate without our full, conscious knowledge. And so each
of us carries a piece of the puzzle, and as we meet we remember more.
And suppose we're not supposed to be building radios. We have to do
it subtly, surreptitiously, gradually. So that one fine day radios are all
over the place, as if out of nowhere.
Yes, we CAN and we DO build our radios, but we can barely explain
the how of it to ourselves, let alone to anyone else. And to explain the
WHY of it to anyone who hasn't been where we've been--next to impossible.
* * * And suppose there IS a little substance that helps us to REMEMBER
our Selves, our context, our powers and our Intention. Suppose that with
the help of that substance we can begin to communicate, in bits and pieces,
the diagrams, the tools, the principles, the aim and benefits, of building
radios.
Suppose also that in order to use that substance effectively we
need access to a whole other set of techniques and knowledge that we don't
have. Without that, the substance can mess us up as much as help us.
A tricky situation, indeed!
* * * . . . And here we are, dancing and loving and tripping to
transcendental beats between the earth and the stars, far far beyond the
bounds of 2D life.
THIS is a radio.
--cinnamon twist
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