Lone Nutter News
1-12-2002
by Jaye C. Beldo

    Recently, I received a post from Alex Constantine announcing a new form 
of technology called Bio-Fusion which: "... combines sensors to examine 
biological systems to understand how information and neural structures 
produce thought and to display the thought in mathematical terms. By 
creating an advanced database containing these terms, researchers now can 
look at brain activity and determine if a person is lying, receiving 
instructions incorrectly or concentrating on certain thought types that may 
indicate aggression."

     In spite of the potential Brave New Fusion at hand, I foresee this 
technology being used in positive ways, such as mapping the inherently 
holographic nature of the brain itself.  I also anticipate a welcome 
opportunity to utilize our own imaginations, creativity and spirit in 
addressing this would-be invasive technology as well. 

    As an example, if one thinks of the number nine, a specific area of the 
brain is activated and those using the Bio-Fusion device can determine that 
the person is thinking of the number. ( Imagine the abuse potential of this 
device, i.e., using it to glean an ATM secret code or credit card number!) 
But what if the targeted person is fully aware of the non-local, holographic 
nature of the brain, has a vivid and pliable imagination, has much 
experience with meditation and the various states of consciousness achieved 
through such a practice?  

What if a person discovers she/he has the ability to simultaneously think of 
the number nine, the German word for 'no', the ninth card of the Tarot deck 
(the Hermit), the nine spheres of the universe according to Islamic 
cosmology, the Ennead by Plotinus, a passage from the third movement of 
Beethoven's 9th Symphony, the dreaded Council of Nine, all contained within 
the ninth sefira, Yesod, of the Cabalistic Tree of Life which is positioned 
in the ninth house of the zodiac?  What localized area of the brain, if any, 
would activate specifically enough for the Bio-Fusion device to determine 
the number the targeted person was thinking of?  

For 
those still trapped in the Skinnerean Black Box of Behaviorist Psychology 
and want to continue to  confine consciousness within the localized, 
physical brain itself, such simultaneous, multidimensional thinking would 
pose a very serious threat to their deterministic/reductionist program of 
manipulation and control.  Instead of the Bio-Fusion device coercing people 
into certain modes of self policed thinking, it would instead encourage 
those quick to seize the opportunity to appreciate the non-local, 
holographic wonder our brains actually are.  

Bio-Fusion technology could even encourage us to reclaim our imaginations 
back from the omnipresent Bastille of corporatized consciousness.  We may 
never get a chance to play with such a device, but a perfect opportunity to 
exercise our holographic brains to prepare for the techno-policing to come, 
is finally here.

    Such creative responses can be used to address other invasive 
technologies now being employed by the military, government and other fear 
based vectors at large, such as Virtual Reality MK, remote viewing and 
electromagnetic sabotage to name a few.  Whenever I feel the uneasy presence 
of something that is manipulative I make sure to respond creatively and not 
react with fear. 

 If I sense that I'm the subject of remote viewing, I'll grab my guitar and 
start playing in hopes that perhaps the person or persons spying on me will 
appreciate the efforts I've made over the last thirty years to evolve my 
musicianship.  I'll play Indian Ragas, percussive, atonal ditties in the 
spirit of Derek Bailey and Fred Frith and other unusual styles that are off 
the map,  in hopes to constructively engage the RV'ers in something 
interesting for a change.   Sometimes I even sing to those I think are 
spying on me. At present I plan on writing tender ballads for the ultimately 
love starved goons, whether they are using the 'Eye of Horus' RV'ing 
technique or accessing my life via some unknown satellite technology or 
hiding behind some clever screen name on the internet. I plan on elaborating 
on this in an upcoming article in Paranoia magazine called: Mind Control in 
Black and White.

*****
    Love in the Age of Anthrax

    About a month ago, a potential paramour sent me a greeting card.  When I 
plucked it cautiously out of my mailbox, I detected something lumpy inside.  
I instinctively took my thumb and forefinger and squeezed what I flashed 
could be a lethal dose of Anthrax.  However, when I opened the envelope, 
reassured that it really was from the person I thought it was from, out came 
a confetti of brittle shards, the remains of two tiny sea shells lovingly 
entwined in a tuft of lamb's wool. 
    
My heart caved in.

I haven't been able to tell my friend about how I ruined her thoughtful gift 
by my careless paranoia.  As if telepathically, remedially responding 
however, she sent me another card a month later, this time with a piece of 
polished black opal inside.  There was no way I could crush the tiny gem 
into ruin no matter how hard I squeezed the envelope.

*****
One Sick Dude

    Robert Sterling forwarded me the following response from a reader of the 
McHajj series now being posted on The Konformist 
(http://www.konformist.com/2002/mchajj/mchajj.htm) :

<>


Jaye's response:

         No need to wax incredulous over my proposed twelve step program pal. 
 For your information, I'm a sick dude because my mind has been perpetually 
raped by advertising icons that infiltrate what little remains of my private 
mental life.  My affliction has totally ruined my love life amongst other 
things.  Every time I try to kiss a woman, for example, the Tidy Bowl man 
shows up in my mind's eye and beats me on the head with a toilet bowl brush 
as if to punish me for my anti-consumerist, erotically liberatory desires. 
I've tried exorcists, psychic surgeons from the Philippines, 1-800 psychics 
and other assorted witch doctors to get rid of these commercial entities 
invading my brain.  But to no avail. 

The best I can do is write out what I dream in the McHajj series as a 
desperate attempt at catharsis.  I know there are others out there who 
suffer from this plight but are probably too ashamed or unsure about how to 
ask for help.  This is why I want to start a 12 step group called V.O.A.I. 
(Victims of Advertising Icons).  

    For those of you that may possibly be V.O.A.I.'s, please continue to 
read the McHajj series as it is posted.  In the meantime, I plan on 
contacting various treatment centers to see if they can offer me financial 
support to embark on this venture. I'm sure the AMA will come after me once 
they catch wind of this however.  I may have to set up a treatment center in 
Mexico, following in the wake of Hoxsey himself.

*****
Memories of Northern India  

    Back in 1988-89 I took a trip to Northern India sponsored by the Omega 
Institute in New York along with 18 other spoiled Americans.  The expedition 
leader, Joan Halifax, noted anthropologist, shamaness, Buddhist, author and 
teacher certainly had the spiritual seniority needed for such a perilous 
venture.  I chose her because I didn't want some Outward Bound, macho hack 
as a trip leader.  Our journey started in Srinagar, Kashmir where we kicked 
back on a houseboat (ironically named Edgar Mitchell)  on Lake Dal and 
enjoyed the panorama of spectacular scenery, recovering from the excessive 
stresses of third world travel.  

Predominantly a Muslim City, Srinagar houses what is believed to be the tomb 
of Jesus Christ as convincingly described in the book 'Jesus Lived in India' 
by Holger Kersten.  At the time I did not know that, but in retrospect have 
come to appreciate the wonderful spiritual energy of the now politically and 
spiritually imperiled region.  

I have come to believe that the current strife between Pakistan and India, 
between Hindu Nationalists and Muslims is orchestrated by New World 
Order/Illusion-Nati forces at large to not only stir geopolitical unrest but 
more importantly, to inhibit if not totally squelch the spiritual energy 
there as elsewhere around the world (most notably in the ongoing 
Ethiopia/Eritrea conflict where the Ark of the Covenant is allegedly 
housed).  In fact a discernible pattern to all of these martial conflicts 
can be detected in many other parts of the world where ongoing unrest is the 
order of the day such as in Israel, Northern Ireland and many other places. 
We worked our way from  Srinagar to the starting point of our long trek.  

We began hiking up into the Himalayan Mountains to visit holy places as the 
Amarnath Cave where the lingam of Shiva (made of ice and just as big as Dick 
Cheney's asininus wang) is housed and then onto Ladahk, Zanskar and some of 
the remotest places I've ever been.  We visited such Buddhist monasteries as 
Hemis (where Christ is mentioned in their ancient prayer books) and quaint 
villages during our trek.  I must say at the time it was the most peaceful, 
harmonious, pollution free place I had ever been.  The 'highway department' 
in that part of the world consisted of a small crew of Indian men placing 
chiseled rocks by hand, one by one, into the roads in a humorous attempt to 
create pavement.  Guard rails were non-existent.

     We visited a man that Ms. Halifax knew from previous expeditions ,in 
one of the villages of Ladahk.  It was one of the most touching moments I 
can ever remember in my life.  We had been hiking all day, passing by 
Ladahkis harvesting apricots, barley and other crops, preparing for the 
long, harsh winter ahead.  TT, as he was nicknamed, and his family came out 
to greet our group and invited us inside their humble home.    I became very 
familiar with this kind of hospitality, warmth and openness in that part of 
the world.   We all sat on a porch overlooking the village and the valley it 
was tucked within.  I then realized I was in the presence of some of the 
most sincere, uncorrupted people I had ever met.   Joan sat with TT on the 
floor and started crying.  Then we all started crying along with her. 

 TT just stared off, fully understanding it all. We knew such a place and 
such people were seriously endangered.  TT knew it himself as he obviously 
understood our emotions and didn't judge or deny us our expressions.  He 
told us later, over barley beer (you need to drink about a gallon of the 
stuff to get a buzz) and tsampa of plans to build a real highway through the 
region, sponsored by the Russians if I'm not mistaken.  TT, the mayor of the 
village already foresaw what was to come their way.  That night, his 
daughters entertained us by singing and dancing.  We all shared a wonderful 
meal together. He let us all crash in their living room and the moon was so 
bright at such a high altitude that I could barely sleep. I couldn't help 
knowing, as I lay in my sleeping bag, that TT and his family's way of life 
would soon be no more.  Our departure from his village the next day was most 
heartbreaking indeed.

    I consider myself to be very fortunate to have been able to experience 
Northern India as one of the most peaceful and beautiful places I had ever 
been.  Sure there were tensions there at the time, (we had just left 
Srinagar when a U.S. and Pakistani ambassador were bombed out of the sky, 
causing riots in the town).  In a place called Kargill, where posters of the 
Ayatollah were openly displayed, our presence was tolerated. I lied and told 
the locals there I was from Canada when they asked.  But overall, I felt we 
were not threatened in any way.  One time, the Indian military bailed us out 
of trouble when we ran out of gas on a remote mountain pass. 
 
    A month and a half later, I returned to America during the Bush-Dukakis 
presidential race. Confronted with a t.v. set in a hotel in NYC, I turned 
the thing on as if to reorient myself to my country of origin and the first 
image to appear after the set warmed up was a close up shot of a gun.   The 
reverse culture shock has not subsided one bit, 14 years later.

©2002 Jaye C. Beldo