Wednesday, 28 October 2015


We hear countless stories of good winning over evil, in which hero rides in on a shining horse restoring order and happiness for the faithful masses cowering in rapt adoration in front of their master.
They are stories. Nothing to do with reality.
The only purpose of great heroes, of masters and saviours is to restore a state of balance. It is a condition in which the greatest number of people—indeed of all life forms—have the greatest opportunity to advance on the endless road of evolution and diversification.
Indeed, in a way, it is the Key to Immortality.

When we advocate good, the question arises: “Good for whom?” For you, or for me? Or him? For the USA or for China? Or for Russia? Or even a United Europe? No one ever considered the concept of “Good for All”. Good for all people, all animals, and birds and fish and bugs… for trees and plants and grass and flowers.
Good of the Universe.
And yet, isn’t all of nature the phenomenal personification of the Divine omnipresence?
This is where virtually all religions failed. While the intent of their myths pointed in the right direction, the executors of the myths soon brought it down to human, erroneous level.

The Gospel of Thomas, one of 52 texts of the Nag Hammadi Library, does not preach the “Gospel of Equilibrium”. That would have been too advanced for people some 2000 years ago. All it does is to assure that the original teaching of the master, of Yeshûa, would not fall the way if the orthodox religions. 
I never met anyone who followed precisely the teaching on which the Christian religions claim to have been based. The task isn’t easy. We are told to be active, to try different ventures, to be brave, courageous, enterprising… and yet not to worry about tomorrow, not to amass riches, not to find safety in worldly goods, lest we forget who we are.
And there’s the rub.
Until we accept that the phenomenal world is not real, that our true nature is not physical, we cannot enter the “Kingdom of Heaven”. We don’t even know what this concept means. 
Hence, back to equilibrium.
Back to the state of balance. It is an imaginary reality that lied beyond “good and evil”. Yet it can mature to a mental condition and even revert to a state of incorporeal yet Individualized Consciousness. Yeshûa gives us a hint. The equilibrium to which I am referring is “peace beyond human understanding”. It surpasses all comprehension.  
It is the source so neutral, yet so all-encompassing, as to offer equal opportunity for all individualizations of Omnipresent Consciousness capable of doing so, to draw on Its inexhaustible supply of ideas. Ideas that can later become thoughts, and emotions, and stir our imaginations, and eventually become constructs of various rates of energy which we, humans, can perceive with our senses.
That sort of peace.
That sort of absolute State of Balance. 

 Exegesis of the Gospel of Thomas

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Friday, 23 October 2015


The movies we watch are replete with beautiful people rapt in admiration of each other, climbing a steep gradient of unrestrained passion to an explosive sexual fulfillment.
It can happen that way. To some. Rarely.
Yet judging by the movie industry, and including the TV, as well as pulp-paper striptease-inspired book covers, it is a constant, omnipresent course of true love.
Balderdash. Nonsense. Total hogwash. 
More often than not, true love takes on quite a different course. Most people are shy, particularly when encountering their counterparts towards whom they sense, almost subliminally, an unexplainable yet drawing attraction.
The problem lies in the total misconception of what love is. For the vast majority of females (as against women), and presumably an equal number of inadequate male counterparts (again in contrast to men), love is equated with sex. Preferably explicit sex, often with dominant or subservient partners bent on sating their hormonally stimulated deviations.
This speaks of majority, or at least 50% of fifty shades of mentally deficient males and females. Far be it for me to suggest that men and women do not on, often frequent, occasions venture into unknown realms of the filigree of experimental physical role-playing. To each her or his own. Both men and women partake in such games. They do not sink, however, to the roles of unfulfilled voyeurs to make up for their inadequacies.
One thing is certain. After watching the entertainment industry for some time, we must conclude that the so-called “Western culture” is characterized by a passionate love affair with murder and sex. The rest seems only coincidental.

It is not often that I exercise my quill, (read WALL—Love, Sex, and Immortality!) to write a love story. Yet sheer courtesy demands that I scribe a few verses of a love story without resorting to exorbitant lust, abject visual nudity, or explicit, preferably perverted sex.
Oh, yes…
 My lovers may well indulge in some departures from ‘mama-papa’ ordinances approved by orthodox Rabbis, but they could not think of a reason why the readers of their saga would enjoy their departures from an established course of accepted standard of lovemaking, rather than indulging in their own. Hence MARVIN CLARK is a love story, wherein two people long to share their lives, their dreams and desires, to become one, to join not just in body but also in emotions and soul.
Theirs is a journey of great commitment. They both found that only total sublimation of their respective egos offers true freedom. Perhaps, that is the price of true love.

A Love Story

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Sunday, 18 October 2015

An Inquiry into the Nature of Being

I’d written three volumes of Essays, 52 of them in each book, some time ago. I covered a multitude of subjects, so that some of them are bound to share your interests.  Now and then I peek at them, and to my utter surprise I find them, repeatedly, as up-to-date as they were on the days I wrote them. After a little while I discovered the secret of their longevity.
It seems that we do not learn new things, as much, as we remember knowledge, which is anchored deep in our subconscious. There is a reason for that.

Albert Einstein assured us that in this world nothing can be created or destroyed. All the realities are simply recycled. There is neither beginning nor end to this process. Under the circumstances there is a good chance that whatever we ‘discover’ and treat as new in our present phenomenal life, we probably experienced before, in one of the countless incarnations, perhaps in different forms, on different planets, in different universes.
That is the problem with infinity. Even as the Universe, it has neither beginning nor end. However, for this to be true, we must not only accept Einstein’s premise, but also accept that there are energies of much greater rates of vibrations, which would not be destroyed when the phenomenal realities undergo renewal. Also, for the Universe to be truly universal, its fundamental nature must be vibrating at a rate not slower than the velocity of light. Then, surely, it would be omnipresent.
Furthermore, everything in nature seems to operate in cycles. There are the seasons, the days and nights, nature continually renewing itself, in cycles, on and on and on…
Could we, you and I, be and do the same?

Even then Einstein had given us a helping hand. He affirmed that there is no matter. He insists that all is energy, in permanent flux; all energies at different rates of vibrations, eternally metamorphosing themselves into different forms. Ad infinitum.

For those of you who are still not attuned to the quanta of electricity (the electrons) and the resultant pixels, which help writers share their thoughts through the medium of ebooks, my Publisher, INHOUSEPRESS, has good news. Recently all three book of my “Inquiry into the Nature Being”, the BEYOND RELIGION series, have been published in paperback. Whatever your reading preference, you can now enjoy your predilection. And if you do, I’d appreciate a brief review. I shared my thoughts with you. Perhaps you’ll care to share yours with me?
Thank you. 

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On Amazon and Create-Space

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Tuesday, 13 October 2015

Mystery of the Subconscious

We often talk of soul, yet seldom if ever two people would define soul, their soul, in the same way. In fact, soul is nothing more than sum-total of your or my memories of our existence in the phenomenal reality. Soul is no less and no more than a magnificent memory storage device, which is partially in our genes, and wholly, completely, and absolutely in our subconscious.
Subconscious is our individualized soul.
We might call it the eternal past.
Yet even as the computer’s memory (ROM) is not the same as anyone who uses such a device, so our subconscious is not the Consciousness that is guiding (or using) it. It is not the “I AM”, or the Individualized Consciousness abiding in the eternal present. Nor is it the self-aware user of this incredible storehouse of all that ever happened to the person who produced those memories.
Hence, please, do not delude yourself any longer. You too are an ephemeral vortex of energy. Whatever you call It, I AM is not made of flesh and blood, but of energies still unknown to us.
And yet…?
And yet I cannot help dreaming that in the fullness of time I shall become aware of the “word which was made flesh”—a biological robot which serves the I AM. Whatever that is. Whatever I am.

And there’s the rub, and the Old Bard would say. While the memory storage is complete in every respect, the user of that memory is anchored to it. In whatever reality I AM finds Itself, such reality is made up of all the events that already happened in the past. Heaven and Hell are both of our own making, and are made up of such memories, which in those realities, momentarily, revert to original or temporal actuality. I AM abides in the countless realities of It’s own creation until it chooses to “return home” merging with the Singularity, and forsaking It’s individuality.
But it starts with the subconscious. You might call it the first heaven.

And these are the realities to which our hero gained access. Just for a while. It wasn’t easy. He had to leave his physical body to enter bodies vibrating at higher rates. He smashed his car into a lamppost to do that. “Don’t try this at home”, as they say. Your time will come. Only now, if you read this book, you will be prepared for what’s coming. Read it. You might need it.

This what some people said about NOW:

“This is a story of how a mind can be set free to roam infinite space where time does not exist...” (K. Jones, author).

“Now - Being & Becoming is an invaluable piece of literature.” (C.J. Good, author).

“This deceptively readable book, compels attention for it is multi-layered, a love story without sentimentality, a philosophy without striving for definitions or qualifications, a thriller, and for a reader a compelling page-turner.” (Philippa Rees, author).

See if you agree. Let me know. 

A Love Story

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Thursday, 8 October 2015


Recently Pope Francis, Bishop of Rome and Sovereign of the Vatican City, visited the United States of America. The Muhammad came to the ‘hill’. And none too soon. The head of the most fundamentalist organization on the face of the earth, replete with dogmas, mysteries and peripheral infallibility, spoke, publicly, against fundamentalism
Glory, Alleluia!
Pope Francis is not your average pope. He moves around in a compact Fiat. He doesn’t dine with the rich and famous, but with the homeless. He doesn’t live in the Apostolic Palace but in an ordinary apartment, like we all do; well, most of us. Pope Francis is likely to give the Vatican a bad name.
Or, perhaps, just perhaps, he stemmed the escalating delusions that permeated both, the most powerful church and the most powerful secular organization? The Vatican and the Congress?

People often misunderstand the concept of fundamentalism. It is not just a religious or even a scientific malady. The disease is spread not by viruses or bacteria but by people who think they know all the answers; who consider themselves infallible experts in any field. Any field at all. They cannot accept, even at emotional level, that all is relative, and we can only speculate on probabilities.
Speculate—not know.
After all, compared to any intelligent life that evolved on countless celestial orbs that are a few million years older than our Earth, we are at the level of amoebas—earthworms at best. If not, the alternative is too dire to contemplate. If we are already so smart as to know anything with dogmatic certainty, our evolution is over. We reached our intellectual zenith.
I know that I know nothing, said Socrates.
And compared to the infinity of time dangling in front of us, we also know nothing. We don’t even know what we don’t know. We live in an ocean of Delusions.

Anyone who regards the phenomenal universe as real, as solid, material, is to some degree, a fundamentalist.
To recap:
Phenomenal world is NOT real. It only looks solid, material, to our primitive eyes.  In fact it is just a vortex of energies in constant motion. Our human senses are not yet sufficiently developed to perceive the truth fulminating behind the optical illusion. And this goes for all our senses. If you think otherwise, you’re a fundamentalist.

At this stage of our evolution we cannot even define who we are. We boast hundreds of trillions of synapses connecting around a hundred billion neurons, and we don’t even know who we are. We don’t even realize that all those neurons are virtually empty space. Like the rest of us. Like the rest of the visible Universe.
The best we can attempt to define would be that we are, or experience our becoming, through vortices of energy spinning in wild abandon at the bidding of some incomprehensible amorphous energy conducting the Universal orchestra.  
The Music of the Spheres?

The Universe is a condition of eternal change. For us, only the journey matters. We call is life.

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Saturday, 3 October 2015

Gods in Waiting

Most of us are still gods in waiting, or, like Winston, hiding behind a veil of anonymity. The potential is already there. 100 billion neurons, and many more glial cells that serve and protect those neurons, are biding their time for us to make full use of them. Each neuron fires 5 to 50 times every second forming thousands of links with other neurons. Assuming you and I possess a typical brain, we, and everyone else, is equipped with well over 100 trillion synapses—some estimate up to 1000 trillion—ready and waiting to carry out our creative will.
Now do you believe we are gods in waiting?
And we are a relatively primitive species inhabiting an insignificant planet, circling an insignificant sun, in a relatively insignificant galaxy.
Now do you believe that gods are omnipresent?

Our brains are only the means; the biological computers which, in a few thousand, perhaps million years, we shall learn how to use their full capacity. Today few of us even know that we have a biological computer programmed to run our biological systems, to take us through the kindergarten of our Becoming.

Looking back, there is only one way to learn.
We must sublimate our ego to the Life Force that brought us from theoretical ideas to human forms. Once we were an idea that became a thought, which became a word. And then—as the ancients expressed it in their uniquely poetic way—“the word was made flesh”.

It seem that we can only advance on the evolutionary scale if we accept that we are only the means for the Universal Consciousness to do Its bidding through us. Some of us achieved a vague awareness that this Consciousness had chosen to individualize Itself through countless units, such as you and I, and innumerable other Individualizations peppered throughout the infinity of the Universe.
In saecula saeculorum?
And imagine… in order to improve the product of Its creation Individualized Consciousness chooses to spend fragments of eternity within an ephemeral biological construct, which will soon be recycled into the vortex of other energies of which the phenomenal reality consist.

Winston Smith had an inkling of that. He knew that it is not the physical activity he performed on Earth that mattered, but the degree to which his awareness grew towards its ultimate potential. He knew that personal humility was directly proportional to the inexplicable grandeur that manifested through him. He chose to serve his time on Earth in a manner that would least interfere with his principal purpose.
He’d chosen to serve those who already showed early signs of the Potential stirring within them. And when he assured himself that his charges were facing the right direction, he moved on to higher realms, on the endless road of creative endeavour.
For him, the worlds were truly without end. Perhaps the same is true of you. Let me know. Starting with Book One of the Winston Trilogy would help you to know him better.

Winston Trilogy Book III

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Paperback coming soon

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