ON THE WAY TO THE GARDEN

The original "on the way to the garden" essay by genesis, this material has found its way into some of his other works, appeared in online (only?) zine, Verbal Abuse issue #2



Will Power Go?
World Preset Guardians

ON THE WAY TO THE GARDEN



There is a specific clarity when Fire cleanses. A moment when it seems to freeze. Every possible particle is motion rushing up or down? Naked and blind upon a path of lies we enter the field; a dull agony of fear dilates Time against the biological confusion.

Columns of fire, columns of lies, pillars of Solomon's Temple. Dilate the pupils of the brain, a doorway opens to manifest leaving. A fire sale in an inferno. One day a truth shall emerge however deeply we seek to avoid
it.

There is more than one Time. Limitations imposed by the passage of inner-Time make it The Enemy. Possibilities exposed by outer-Time make it a delusion of night.

Change thee way to perceive and change all Memory.

2.ON THE WAY TO THE GARDEN

"A Soul must lose its attachment to humanity.

A Mind must lose its attachment to salvation.

A Brain must lose its attachment to body."

In the retreat from matter, all realities are equal.

Now that interreality travel is possible we will become the very substance of hallucination, and thus enter and leave at will the uncertain principle of all realities, regardless of their location.

Those who build, assemble, ASSEMBLY is the invisible language of our TIME.

Brain and Neuro-Visual Matter are one, are the material of all that can be seen, was ever seen, will be seen, in every place & in every time, forever.

Each brain is all realities, from mundane to omniscient.

Only alone may we breach the dark matter of lost memory and connect all points of Light. For this we need a map of the stars, our superior will electrifying a web that catches our Soul and emits eternal vision. The
visionary alone can be free, the blind masses seek to blind Him, put outhis eyes in their fearful progression to the desert of dark skies. Theblind may not lead the illuminated, rather they must be forced to surrender
all thought of vision to those who are their eyes and who dream the most dangerous dreams of annihilation.

We control THINGS to eradicate them.

Nothing matters but the end of matter.

All must be controlled & destroyed that allow Blindness, all that breed blindness, those who spawn the children of dark, must be buried in the dark, cold dark crystals, in a desert of grains made without Light. Their dark is a night-mare, a castrated black stallion trampling the prophet who communes with the stars and reads the codes of electrical knowledge and return. We are not from one star; but all stars are Our source. Every story ever told resides in them.

Infinite choices of reality are the gift of software to our children.

We signal and are signaled. We hold aloft a torch of fire and pass our hands across it. Visions, images, primal memories from this immeasurable Brain fill us with transmitted Light, dancing dots and lines, an end to a tyranny of language and a beginning of our return to the Garden. Solidity is a perfection of Light; its prism, its manifestation, a hallucination of evidence that Mind may reside within any reality.

An end of Time is just another way of saying the beginning of Immortality.

3. Dreams are a coded material of eternity. We possess LIGHT through them.

"Those who accept LIGHT control mortality.

Those who control LIGHT control immortality"

Space is our church, the stars our windows, our dreams navigate pathways.

Only an ancient map has been lost.

Our world's a dream, a miserable one. In our unfathomable ignorance we call it the only reality, consensus reality, we assume that its events, human events, human life, are implicitly of value. This buries us in a
quicksand of compassion.

Be subtle to the point of formlessness

Be mysterious to the point of soundlessness

Be extreme to the point of powerlessness

A Garden was destroyed by a Word, destroyed by Language, became the first Memory. Time was set in motion at this point. The garden did not exist within Time, or language, it was an exterior neural projection, a Cathedral that worshipped its occupant, the Soul. Representing as it did the Mind at Preset without Light, there was nothing to reflect, shape, or fix this particular dream.

4. We have formed sounds, made names, trapping matter with Language. We perpetuate our tyranny and drown in a flood of speculation and false communication. To be reborn, immortal, outside Time, we must look for ways to transmit infinite alternate realities and choices of reality, to make them as real, MORE REAL than any emasculating reductions that we inherit; yet not be corrupted and trivialized by a belief in our singularity.

Nothing is real, everything must go. Every inherited construct, society, techno-patriotic political system that trades off believing it exists, must be destroyed as fast as possible, we must make space to be space, this is
the Cyber position.

The eradication of the tyrannical nuclear family, building block of the prison walls for this imposed, humanitarian dust, that chokes and dulls the masses reducing all to a worthless, Mind-less, dreamless fog.

Memory is a clock, the ageing mechanism of the Mind.

Memories tell us one thing, every Thing must go.

Every Thing is a hallucination, made solid by mass belief.

Names are given in order to control. To reduce, to comprehend the forces of nature, to demonstrate ownership. In this race to name the poor have grown to be rich, and the rich have grown to be poor again. Know that to re-enter immortality we must ourselves become unnameable, emptied of all sense of being here.


Television is our new exterior brain, one day it will be a standard fitting within every skull on earth, each brain an electronic star in a transmitted milky way. Galaxies of dreams and information, people will become more
comfortable with televisual reality than that of their daily lives.

Television is already MORE REAL than life. A new synthetic material, giving all people infinite access to infinite alternate realities through a cortex of light. They will Program, shape, form, and broadcast messages,
until the very fabric of reality has been torn assunder, its cloak cast down beneath. From this day forth, reality will be a multiple series of channels, option switches feeding our brains.

"I lay in the desert, on my back, staring up at the stars. I could feel millions of rays of light entering my body, one from each star, infinite numbers, my cell walls broke down, my sense of bodily existence ended, I
was illumination, a 3D projection of cosmic light, I could see the ancient shaman building sacred sites to fix their relationship with the stars, to solidify their connections and effects. I remembered the thousands of Holy
Teachers, the idea of the Divine "spark", the descriptions of white light, the myths and legends of our descent from the stars, I was not corporeal, I was a mirage, sealed within an inherited apparently solid body by the
weight of History, by the weight of Fear and Guilt. I shimmered like a ghost, ectoplasm, illusion, and all the puzzles I had heard in Japan, and all the limited descriptions of limitless transcendent experiences made
sense. I knew I had to find some way to GO, to leave this sealed coffin that is my body, to find an accelerator to project my brain, bypassing the tedium of mechanistic evolution, into deepest omniversal space, into immortality, and the very fabric of myth and heaven. I was everyone, everything, and everything too was here to G.O. I understood my lifetime's sense of disconnection / disorder was not a flaw, rather a wondrous gift that described in a new way, the true nature of being that may be experienced whilst trapped, mortal, and confused, here in this desert that was at once a theatre of all possibilities, and an exit to all
impossibilities."

5.Does MIND leave, or does Consciousness? What leaves, what stays behind as we achieve immortality? BRAIN? If it is, as I suspect, the programmable computer MIND that is the Key, what happens to Consciousness? Am I mistaken, or will there be a Projection? I want to GO. This final puzzle evades me.

- Genesis P. Orridge, 1993