A poem for the 21st century: VISIONS OF THE EMPIRE

A poem for the 21st century: Visions of the Empire

by Jon Rappoport

June 13, 2018

I’ve been writing and editing a 6000-word poem, VISIONS OF THE EMPIRE, for the past ten years. Here I present the first section. I may post other excerpts.

Poetry in the grand tradition of, say, Walt Whitman may seem to be dead—and who cares about poetry anyway? But poems are life blood on the page. They have the potential to awaken the sleeping mind and spirit.

I cast this one out like a wind across the landscape, with full knowledge that reading anything, much less poetry, is a dying art in many quarters. Frankly, that doesn’t stop me. I know, from 17 years of writing at nomorefakenews, that there are untold numbers of people who can still read and want to read. My articles have found them.

Going against the grain doesn’t bother me. It motivates me. Every day. The seemingly absurd proposition that a poem can have a life-bearing effect—I hold that view and always will.

The unbound, wide-ranging, free and electric spirit within us is THERE. We can step on it and bury it and forget it, but it doesn’t die. With that knowledge, and without apprehension, I freely give you this. Do with it what you will. As with everything else I write, I stand on the words.

VISIONS OF THE EMPIRE, Part One:

This poem is not a warning
This is poem is not an alert
This poem is not a shopping cart in a supermarket
This poem is not my uncle talking about America with a cigar in his mouth
This poem is not about the H-bomb
This poem is not my grandmother speaking Russian in the Bronx a hundred years ago
This poem is not a microwave
This poem is not
This poem is not a robot car on the highway
This poem is not a power outage
This poem is not
This poem is not a peace treaty
This poem is not a shadow across your eyes
This poem is not Karl Marx or Mussolini
This poem is not a molecule invented in a laboratory
This poem is not a political philosophy manufactured in a secret bank
This poem is not a machine
This poem is not a system
This poem is not asking for an answer
This poem is not people dying in hospitals even though people are dying in hospitals
This poem is not bread or the fountain of youth
This poem is not a doctor
This poem is not a professor on a pension
This poem is not a union
This poem is not a dollar
This poem is not a major or a colonel
This poem is America and not-America
The dream America

After money was sold down the river and resurrected on a cross of blood
After a cash-loaded God strolled into town
After the Universal Hospital drugged synapses and drove the wild horses of imagination down into underground canyons
and sculpted androids stepped out in the aftermath buying back their own memories

geologic wraiths spiraled up inside television sets—
their only ambition to stunt prayers for deliverance and kill raw desire—

we watched wildcats of Texas dripping sweat into their high hats pull black blood out of the ground and send it through tubes of night to porcupine refineries on the shores of the Body of Christ
apostles were resurrected in knife-cutter fins of long Cadillacs running hot across the Kansas plains with blondes in the back seat drinking

New horizontal towns were multiplying on Long Island, stage flats of perfect geometry coddled in the breasts of hopeful mothers asking for redemption from pill-addled afternoons and hallucinatory music cooking in shining ovens
monthly budgets laid out neatly on Formica counters below the knives
distant farm fields dead in the snow
blank-eyed children walking in the snow
cultivating nightmares they would one day visit on Reality

I flew over those fields and heard the crackerbox houses rot and rust as nothing ever rotted before

We tamed the wolf and the copperhead
we broke a pond of ice and sent Promethean serpents to force a tunnel all the way down to the volcanic hats of ancient Chinese poets

We tracked mobs and gangs and politicians and drowned them in thunderous secret rivers under the Southwest deserts
we launched charges against the bosses and carried our prosecutions into courtrooms of fish eye and coral and waving undersea weeds and dragged paid-off judges from their galleon-wrecked thrones

We stood in the blinding sunlight reflected from low slung whitewashed buildings of Pasadena and El Segundo and Long Beach and felt the roar of departing space rockets cutting tunnels through the future and pulling back the future with giant magnets of illuminated dust

We walked through measureless windows of wheat and corn growing in the middle flatlands under the warm rain of supernatural mansions

We draped curtains of night in the upper hills of Los Angeles where the mountain lion and the coyote and the melted mythical Greek beast roamed like vagabonds free of the Wheel

Under poles of yellow lights, gasping midnight locomotives clamped on to lines of freight cars in the backyards of Chicago
Plastic lilies grew in the pastures of St. Louis haberdashers and department stores

In White Plains we carved a diamond on cracked asphalt and climbed a decaying elm and walked along the iron railing of the fence holding rotting branches and threw marbles down on to Davis Avenue and watched them bounce into the muddy stream of World War Two newspapers and swollen milk cartons and broken whiskey bottles and torn black jackets of old soldiers who had died in snow drifts over the winter and mysteriously disappeared

I ran under trees filled with light green inchworms hanging from long threads until I was invisible
and glimpsed smiling robots sitting in cafes in the next platinum century

In Los Angeles, concrete sunset of three stacked freeways, a carpet of park in Beverly Hills, old poolroom on Broadway downtown, bus to San Francisco, a bum holding out his hand and saying On Venus Jesus will show you machines of love

I saw politicians jumping out of floating windows
their briefcases cracking open
spilling secrets like lazy snowflakes
dazzling in the sun
trillion dollar thefts
naked amazons stashed in condos and yachts
banks sucking money from the vacuum of the heavens
dead agents

in a rock pasture outside Des Moines hitchhiking to New York
glimpses of prehistoric time
before the beginning before the beginning of sacred money before the first idols were built, before sacrifice was thought of, sly prophets were trying on robes and combing out their long hair and rehearsing their future executions

Standing up on a hill past Albuquerque on 66, I caught a ride into a no-name Arizona town, walked in the foggy morning along an empty road to a pine-filled snow-filled cliff and stared out at a spring valley a thousand feet below

In blinding rain I stood on the Indiana Turnpike outside Chicago pointed east and wound up in the Pennsylvania countryside driving the car of a half-crippled man with a Bible I met in a Howard Johnson
our headlights went dead on a curve and a cop pulled in behind us and stopped us
he led us to a fat judge’s house in the middle of the night where we paid thirty bucks
then parked on a quiet lane and slept until dawn
early spring in March
flowering magnolia trees
he dropped two Thorazine and told me to drive
and his babbling about Heaven slowed down and he slept
and when we pulled into Manhattan he had me park in midtown
he looked at me with glazed doe’s eyes and said
son, I’ve reached the end of the line, this is it, within a month I’ll kill myself

I walked along the astral cloisters of Wall Street among crowds lapping at honey loopholes in a web of proprietary secrets and I flew through steel walls into the psychotic fandango of the international electronic invented money Surge

I recorded architects laying out blueprints for the perfect human in bunkers of Virginia where silent factories printed minds whose memories could be selectively erased
technicians built new bodies from tendons and ligaments of cougars and predatory owls and membranes from soldier ants and feral dogs

I walked through fields of cactus east of Tijuana
into caverns of mass graves where sacrificed Aztec skeletons still stank in pulsing blood rhymes of a toothless hobo Ziggurat

I sat in the courtroom where the two-hundred-year trial of America labored like a wounded beast, witness after witness screaming accusations at captains of production and dark iron-masked prosecutors hammered their fists on tables and smooth Rockefeller men sat in the witness box and advocated drugging the population

One Sunday night I walked out of a small bookstore on 3rd Avenue and a drunken Ben Franklin, wearing his waistcoat and slippers, his spectacles halfway down his crooked nose, pulled me over to the doorway of a paint store, and whispered:
“I should prefer, to an ordinary death, being immersed
with a few friends in a cask of Madeira, until that time,
then to be recalled to life by the solar warmth of my
dear country!”

he patted me on the cheek and grinned

What about the weathered Declaration on which you staked your honor, your future, your fortune, your life, I ask him
His face turns sour
Oh that, he says
They sold it for a war, and it fetched a handsome price
They sold it for a bank, and rated it a fair exchange
They sold it for a choking nightmare called the greater good, and it drained their living blood
They sold it for a legend of heaven under a burning copper sky and it vaporized in the whirlwind

Fifty million video cameras record the washed out moment-to- moment ballet in streets and offices
people stop for a moment in a bulging tableau
light peers in through immobile troughs of fury
complaints are frozen

all the children of America with their endless needs are frozen

We slashed our way through faded blue Virginia mountain ranges ruled by subhuman priests
lizards crawled through the sunlight between leaves on rumbling paragon trees spreading out their knuckles above ground

Through dream gardens of the starlit Sagittarius, coral horses, amber-fed lichen
we walked the Colorado Cherokee Trail glittering with bodies frozen in the silver fog

We flew over steaming cities and freezing cities and came to the Asia plain of tropical magic where the walls of enduring space were cracked and broken and the false curtain of the sky lay at half-mast torn and stained

Here the empire had shriveled and small mobs wandered under saturated space broken off from the Maypole of trance

We still hear a voice of freedom
in the
aether

now freedom barks like a dog
it weeps over stones
it demands cash
it lies in the mud and croaks
flees a burning church…


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)


Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

Illiteracy leads to censorship

Illiteracy leads to censorship

by Jon Rappoport

June 6, 2018

“…intellectual freedom is a deep-rooted tradition without which our characteristic western culture could only doubtfully exist. From that tradition many of our intellectuals are visibly turning away. They have accepted the principle that a book should be published or suppressed, praised or damned, not on its merits but according to political expediency. And others who do not actually hold this view assent to it from sheer cowardice.” (George Orwell, 1953)

When those who control public discourse, in a nation, see that they are losing to upstarts, that their flimsy ideas are being supplanted by much stronger ideas from these newcomers (who are actually traditionalists), the shocked controllers turn to the more direct strategy of censorship.

In terms of substance, and even popularity, the ministers of truth are losing; so they abandon reasoned discourse altogether. They desert this fertile, competitive, and NECESSARY territory. They no longer debate. They ban.

Among their supporters are crowds of illiterates.

There are many people who, because their education was a vaporous thing, have no interest in the written or spoken word.

The reason is obvious: they can’t read.

Their natural impulse is to make excuses. “Who needs books?” “People who write books are showing their privilege.”

For these excuse-makers, book burning would mean NOTHING. All that matters is: what slogans should I shout?

For the illiterate, a book is a mystery. How could anyone put all the words together and write one? Somehow, the author must have a secret method of downloading the book from an elite source, a cloud, a machine, a trick in their DNA.

A book, a report, an article, a study, an essay—millions of people in “advanced societies” don’t have a clue. When censorship tightens, who cares? It’s just words.

IT’S JUST WORDS.

Long ago, when I taught school, I had an experience I wish many people could share. Twenty children in a 10th-grade classroom. No student was reading up to that grade level. Each student was reading at a DIFFERENT (sub-standard) level. Time to teach reading. How could it be done? It couldn’t.

Elite societal players welcome illiteracy. They love it. It’s one of their cherished goals. Ignorance is good. More than that, illiterate people are easy to convince that repressive censorship isn’t a problem. It’s just something that “happens.”

If you don’t have “the right ideas,” you should be censored.

IT’S JUST WORDS.

Words are useless “things” like tacks and marbles and crayons and paper clips. Who cares?

“Don’t you see that the whole aim of Newspeak is to narrow the range of thought? In the end we shall make thoughtcrime literally impossible, because there will be no words in which to express it. Every concept that can ever be needed, will be expressed by exactly one word, with its meaning rigidly defined and all its subsidiary meanings rubbed out and forgotten.” (George Orwell, “1984”)

At its root, illiteracy becomes a form of reductionism. What can be comprehended, discussed, debated, or reasoned shrinks.

IT’S JUST WORDS.

Illiteracy is more effective than political correctness. Untold numbers of people can’t understand the sentences that are floating and flying by them every day. They register this by building up anger. Unfocused anger. They are perfect fodder for know-nothing social and political movements that requite violence and repression. After all, they were repressed, weren’t they? Weren’t they left hanging out in the wind by their education, their schooling? Now is the time for revenge.

Along the way, censorship becomes a very good thing. They were limited in what they learned; therefore, limit everyone else. Why not?

IT’S JUST WORDS.

There is a sub-text percolating in many, many schools: “All right, you students, this is your education. We’re going to keep you from learning the language. We’re going to hold it back from you. At the same time, we’re going to praise you and push you ahead from grade to grade. You’ll know something is wrong. But you’ll accept what we do to you. It’s easier. You’ll take a ride through school, and then we’ll dump you out into the world. We’re making rebels wholesale. Ignorant rebels. Rebels without the tools for THINKING. You’ll have to find a place where thinking isn’t important. Good luck. Here’s a suggestion. Find a group where all you have to do is yell and throw rocks. Learn what to yell. Demand your right to get EVERYTHING FOR NOTHING. That is all.”


Do you want a piece of interesting news? I can offer it, based on my experience of the past 17 years writing online. The declining system of education creates a vacuum. And into that vacuum, writers who do value language step forward, and they do present actual ideas. This is a large vacuum, so it can accommodate many writers.

They are creating new realities.

And readers show up.

Miracle of miracles.

These writers and readers are the “replacement team.” They are standing in for the colleges and universities and the sloganeers.

They are not censoring themselves or anyone else.

They are proliferating language, not reducing it.

Here is the secret: the history of humans reveals that language does, in fact, expand. It doesn’t lie down and die. It doesn’t wait for know-nothings to catch up. It doesn’t wait for anyone. Poets and novelists and playwrights and essayists find and invent new branches of word and thought.

Their present is the future. They are making the future every day.

And as far as pure ideas go, no matter how hard some people have tried, Jefferson and Madison and Tom Paine and John Adams are not dead yet. Their shaped principles embedded in sentences live on.

If at some point, the entire population of the planet were illiterate, except for four writers, those four would invent a new ocean that can’t be contained—and somehow, readers would show up.

Perhaps you think I’m describing a kind of magic, and maybe I am, but I’m also giving you ironclad fact. It has always been so.

The Internet may have been invented with machine language, but the writers who have appeared on it are multiplying their own language.

They are outdistancing the machine.

They always will.


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)


Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

Since time began: what artists are telling us

Since time began: what artists are telling us

by Jon Rappoport

May 17, 2018

These are notes I wrote while preparing my three Matrix collections:

“Many people are afraid of art. Why? Because art says reality isn’t finished. This reality—the one we all know about—isn’t the only one. An infinite number of realities can be imagined and invented.”

“People who say they have no imagination are imagining they have no imagination.”

“The atoms of the body and the atoms of the universe are waiting for imagination to give them more life.”

“Artists are saying, ‘No matter what Super-Reality you believe in, no matter what cosmology you accept, imagination can go farther. There is no final map’.”

“Artists are saying, ‘Your future is wide open. You can invent it. Or you can let someone else invent it for you’.”

“Artists provide answers to questions that haven’t been asked yet. This bothers people who want to spend their lives solving pre-set problems.”

“Living in a virtual bubble can be interesting, especially when you’re not aware of it. The question is, how extreme can a bubble be? How much of what we think of as reality can actually be the stuff of a bubble? Most people want to say a little bit of this and that is virtual and the rest is absolutely authentic. That’s as far as they want to go. But every bubble has its own space and time. This means space and time are far from exclusive, far from singular, far from absolute…”

“The Labyrinth is where most people are. They live their lives walking through paths that circle around to places they’ve already visited. They experience, over and over, a relatively small number of emotions. They think they need a map to escape. But a map is what got them into the Labyrinth in the first place. A map is a system. To leave the maze, they need something beyond systems.”

“Imagination is more than a tool. It colors all of consciousness. It understands that What Already Exists is just a way-station into the future, and that future is open, without limits. Somebody may have already invented the future for everybody else, but he can be derailed, he can be superseded.”

“Look at a structure you have an intuition about. Now begin digging down into it. Think about the weirdest possible revelation you could uncover. The one nobody would believe. It’s possible you’re sniffing on the right track. For example, governments announce a new epidemic caused by a virus. And you eventually find out that this virus has never been found in a single human being. This has happened to me.”

“Painters like Kandinsky, Klee, Matisse, and Redon understood that what they were inventing was at least as real as what people took to be reality. The painters understood that, but they didn’t talk about it. They didn’t express their insights in such bold terms. They realized it would open them up to intense ridicule. From whom? There is a group on planet Earth who functions as the Guardian of Reality; and then there is a much larger group, the dupes of the Guardians. These two groups buy and sell Ordinary Reality.”

“A person has a problem. What happens when he’s tried all the familiar solutions and they don’t work? He has to imagine a new solution and put it into effect. What happens if he says he has no imagination?”

“Stop thinking of yourself as an ordinary human being who has ordinary problems that need to be solved. That’s what got you in a mess in the first place.”


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)


Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

Breaking: It isn’t the genes; the genes don’t rule

Breaking: It isn’t the genes: the genes don’t rule

by Jon Rappoport

May 10, 2018

In the grab-bag field of research involving human genes, some biologists have speculated that the 20,000 components of the genome are not enough to explain human function and behavior.

They have gone to another level—there must be additional programming that directs the genes to carry out multiple tasks.

This is all about cause and effect. In this case, the effect is everything a human does or thinks or feels. The cause would be whatever controls genetic activity.

When rare critics point out that explaining human life is different from explaining, say, a consecutive series of billiard balls striking each other on a table, researchers shrug it off.

One biologist I interviewed several years ago told me, “This is the way science works. We start with a simple model of causation, and then, over time, we adjust that model so it can account for a wider range of effects.”

I said, “But suppose you eventually run up against the idea that an individual has free will? He can unilaterally decide to take an action, without any prior genetic determination.”

“That’s impossible,” he said.

“What makes you so sure?”

For that, he had no answer.

Genetic theory is just the latest in a long line of ideas proposed to lock the human being into a structure. The will of the gods, the divine right of kings, demons, Oedipus Complex, brain chemistry, etc.

Every era and age has its preferred hypothesis about causation—which tries to shrink down what a human can accomplish.

And each of these explanations for human behavior is aimed at submerging the individual into an overall context that is far more important than he is.

Now, in the first flush of widespread computer use, many people have concluded that “the human species” is basically a design group. We build machines that think and solve and collate and organize. Soon, those machines will design other devices. And so on and so forth.

If you follow this line of reasoning far enough, you will come to the place where human beings are pictured as machines whose final function is to re-design THEMSELVES…to become better automatic machines.

Then the absurdity is complete.

For centuries, philosophers and pundits and propagandists have debated the question of free will, which is like debating whether there is a sky and clouds. Free will and choice are obvious.

But when people tie themselves up in the issue of cause and effect, and when they exaggerate its importance beyond any rational boundary, and when they are looking for a way to remain entirely passive, they “discover” there is no freedom. They say that every thought and action has a cause, and that cause is beyond human control.

Then they rest. Then they decide that all power stands outside themselves.

Then they act like robots.

Then they play that role.

They never stop to think that playing the robot-role implies they can be phased out—because, face it, non-human machines make much better robots than humans do.

If you want a full robot, you don’t pick a human.

On the other end of the spectrum, a free human making free choices and knowing he is making those choices—well, that explodes the whole lock-and-key myth of cause and effect.

That is a refutation. Some might even call it a revelation.

I’ve written a number of articles about The True Rebel. The Rebel stands outside the dominant myths. He rejects ideas and thoughts that claim he is less and less powerful. He refuses to knuckle under when the “robot makers” come calling. He sees the system that wants to absorb him. He sees how freedom is being managed and buried. I’m not talking about “crazy and irresponsible rebels.” Quite the opposite. The True Rebel is the sane one.

The question is, what is he going to do with his sanity?

Answering that question has been an ongoing action of mine for the past 35 years. My three Matrix collections form a major, major answer. My articles take apart various components of limiting myths and knock them over. I’m on the side of the true rebel. I want him to succeed. I want him to bloom in all his glory.

Every highly technological civilization eventually founders on the rocks of its own ideas. Particularly those ideas which eat into freedom and substitute determinism. Naturally, it is science which leads the way into the blind alley of brick walls and the vapid desert of passivity. Science is hijacked to explain why humans are pawns.

Scientists are enlisted to act like buffoons. They are essentially saying, “I’m here to freely explain to you that there is no freedom.”

Cue the laughter. Thunderous laughter.

Many, many years ago, in my youth, a dour psychiatrist told me he was “driven” to accept the human brain as the bottom-line cause of all action and perception, because, otherwise, he wouldn’t be a psychiatrist. Somehow, I wasn’t impressed by his approach. I asked him how he felt about his “position.”

“Rather depressed,” he said.

I then asked him if he was taking medication to treat his condition.

He said no. He would press on with his work, which was: upholding the scientific establishment.

Rather grim.

The emperor really doesn’t have any clothes.

I told him that, for me, freedom was electric.

He nodded sadly.

The robot psychiatrist…


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)


Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

The positive power of imagination

The positive power of imagination

by Jon Rappoport

May 2, 2018

I wrote these notes after releasing my second collection, Exit From The Matrix. This collection contains over 50 imagination exercises I designed to increase an individual’s creative power:

“With imagination, one can solve a problem. More importantly, one can skip ahead of the problem and render it null and void.”

“Imagination isn’t a system. It might invent systems, but it is non-material. It’s a capacity. It feels no compulsion to imitate reality. It makes realities. Its scope is limited only by a person’s imagining of how far imagination can go.”

“It’s interesting to remember an earlier time when you had more imagination at your disposal. You might find an array of feelings you appreciate more than the feelings you’re feeling now. You might realize imagination stimulated those feelings and brought them into view.”

“Consciousness wants to create new consciousness, and it can. Imagination is how it does it. If there were some ultimate state of consciousness, imagination would always be able to play another card and take it further.”

“If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, we’ve flattered reality enough. It doesn’t need any more. Reality needs a massive injection of imagination.”

“Imagination can be used to invent a better shade of nail polish or a universe. In a society devoted to nail polish, imagination is not to blame.”

“Imagination has extraordinary equanimity. It is just as happy to entertain and embody two conflicting realities as it is to spool out one uniform reality.”

“You can create the same thing over and over, and eventually you’ll be about as alive as a table. Inject imagination into the mix, and everything suddenly changes. You can go anywhere you want to.”

“The lowest common denominator of consensus implies an absence of imagination. Everyone agrees; everyone is bored; everyone is obedient. On the opposite end of the spectrum, there are massive floods of unique individual creation, and that sought-after thing called abundance is as natural as the sun rising in the morning.”

“There are those who believe life is a museum. You walk through the rooms, find one painting, stroll into it and take up permanent residence. But the museum is endless. And if you were a painter, you’d never decide to live inside one of your canvases forever. You’d keep on painting.”

“The relentless and obsessive search for all those things on which we can agree is a confession of bankruptcy. Instead, build one new thing.”

“We re-learn to live through and by imagination, and then we enter and invent new space and time. But space and time aren’t the superior forces. They operate and come into being at the tap of imagination.”

“There are a billion murals on a billion walls, and the person chooses one and falls down before it and devotes himself to it. He spends a thousand years trying to decipher it. So be it. Eventually, he’ll wind his way out of the labyrinth. Then he’ll enter another labyrinth and undergo the same process. He’ll do this on and on and on, and finally he’ll see that he can imagine his own labyrinth. So he does. He invents many labyrinths. Then one day, it’ll occur to him that he can imagine whatever he wants to. It doesn’t have to be labyrinth.”

“I’m not breaking a system into parts. I’m not trying to teach a person how to tie his shoes. I’m talking about the proliferation of endless new worlds, not seen through a porthole, but imagined and invented.”

“The EXPRESSION of imagination is the key. Instead of thoughts circling around aimlessly, you have projection out into the world. You make something that has never been made before.”

“Imagination is larger than any universe. It needs no sanction from the world or from other worlds. It is not some secret form of physics. It is not religion. It is not cosmology. It is not any one picture of anything. It’s what you invent.”

“The deployment of imagination unlocks hidden energies. A power, sought after and never found in other endeavors, appears.”

“A metaphor for imagination might be warp drive. You skip ahead in space by huge leaps. It’s not 1,2,3; it’s 1,2, and then suddenly four thousand. You’re not working by serial cause and effect.”


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)


Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

A spiritual experience, dedicated to my wife

A spiritual experience, dedicated to my wife

by Jon Rappoport

April 30, 2018

We have all had moments when we were lost, and someone appeared out of the gloom to help us. Friend, stranger. A hand was offered, and we took it.

An electricity was joined, and we were brought to a clearing in the woods and a path back home.

We are all having a spiritual experience in this physical world, and we are learning, as we go along, what that experience is. Here and now.

Life is the place where we learn it. There are cosmic jokes and tricks and pain and suffering and joy. But we persist. It is in our nature. In order to provide help. In order to learn and know. In order to express courage and love and imagination.

In order to be more of what we are.

So when an experience or a person whispers, “Courage, my friend,” this is a great lesson in the great school.

Strength means creating the energy to keep going.

These are not abstract matters. They are alive.

“The only riches, the great souls,” DH Lawrence wrote.

We are driven by events to see great souls. Finally, other items are filtered out, and we are left with the essence.

Suddenly, we see the sun coming up over the horizon.

Suddenly, we see we are participating in something greater than we supposed.

Suddenly, we understand there are far more great souls than we imagined.

Suddenly, the walls and barriers go down, and we can come out of the cold and back to the familiar place of the human hearth.

We are stronger than we believed we were. We will do whatever it takes to help those we love.

“Courage, my friend.” Institutions may be built to exclude us, but we are beyond them, and we always were.

Yeats: “And I will pluck, ‘til time and times are done, the silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun.”

Souls are in this world and also beyond it. We are those souls, having a spiritual experience and learning what it is.

In all the lands of this place, someone in need reaches out his hand and you give yours in return. This act is irreplaceable, and yet it has few banners to mark it. So I am raising one.

Twenty-five years ago, when I met my wife-to-be, Laura, I was in my gloom. To me, she was both incomprehensible and familiar. She was someone from a world I seemed to remember, where joy-spring actually came every year, in renewal. She was rescuing me, but she had no plan for me. Her plan was to be in the moment. Giving and receiving in the moment with me. I looked for an ulterior motive. There was none. I hoped to find in myself what she had. I hoped to find out how she had what she had. Finally, I realized all this was nonsense, because I had found her. I didn’t need to travel any farther. This was the jumping-off point. All the excuses turned to dust. As it turned out, she was miles ahead of me; she already knew we would be together. All I had to do was let go of a ridiculous mirage, some sort of self-defeating idea that was backwards and inside out; a crazy idea in a language that no one spoke, including me. So I let go.

And then I was on the road to a new experience, an experience I am learning about as we go along. Right here, right now. It doesn’t end. The “me” part is relentlessly interesting, but the “her” and “us” are far more than I could have imagined. Mysteries up into sky and down into the core.

But so simple and present, as I look at her.

People may weep for lost worlds, but the tears end when two are together.

Keep the faith.

Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

We are having a spiritual experience

We are having a spiritual experience

by Jon Rappoport

April 26, 2018

Recent events, about which I won’t go into detail, have caused me to say, we are having a spiritual experience.

And we are learning what that experience is.

Certain people, extraordinary people, show us qualities that transcend life.

These qualities, courage and love.

In the common arena where we all live, there are sufferings, but we can see that certain people transcend that. They come here, not only with a message, but with how they live. And how they live is greater than this life.

These people—there are many more of them than we ordinarily suppose.

This spiritual experience we are having—it is something we are learning about. I want to repeat that, because I’m not talking about something that appears and then is final. We are, if we are aware, learning.

Courage and love transcend this life we are living in the common arena.

The person who has shown me that is my wife, Laura Thompson. I have been learning about her for the 21 years we have been married. I have been learning about the scope and nature of her courage and love.

It is not easy for a person to live in this world on the side of love. To travel this life with love results in disappointments. But to continue, despite what happens, no matter what the world says or does, is majestic and beautiful. It is also transcendent.

And that is the living proof that there is a spiritual experience beyond this life as we are living it.

I believe, no matter who you are, that you have known a person who embodies this living proof.

Here and now.

As we learn, we come across “divisions” between the life we are living and the greater live we perceive. A major part of the learning is accepting that division.

There is a resolution. We come to it by degrees.

There are strengths in both the life we are living and the greater life we glimpse, perceive, and experience.

We come across great souls. They may be invisible to us for a time, even as we respond to them. But in time, we see more of them and who they are. And as we do, we see ourselves—what we can be. We see that what we can be is a natural extension of what we presently are doing.

As for myself, even as I feel my greatest love for Laura, I know it is only a part of what I will feel, as I learn more, in this spiritual experience I’m having.

As I learn more about her. As I live my life next to hers and as we have our endless life together.

Veils lifted from the heart and mind and eyes.

Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.