Author Topic: I have a special plan for this world.  (Read 14752 times)

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I have a special plan for this world.
« on: March 22, 2003, 03:28:37 am »
By posting this, I am revealing to you fellows something that is sacred to me. With the exception of one verse in the middle, this prose is Bad - Ass. I'm transcribing this, so respect it.

Its one song, 20 minutes long. Its terrifying. Its beautiful.


I Have A Special Plan For this World



By David Tibet and Thomas Lighotti

Quote

When everyone you have ever loved is finally gone. When everything you have ever wanted is finally done with. When all of your nightmares are for a time obscured as by a shining brainless beacon, or a blinding eclipse of the many terrible shapes of this world. When you are calm and joyful and finally entirely alone, then in a great new darkness you will finally execute your special plan.

"One needs to have a plan", someone said who was turned away into the shadows and I had beleived to be sleeping or dead.

"Imagine", he said, "all the flesh that is eaten. The teeth tearing into it, the tongue tasting its savor and the hunger that taste. Now take away that flesh", he said, "take away the teeth and the tongue the taste and the hunger. Take away everything as it is. That was my plan, my own special plan for this world."

I listened to these words and yet I did not wonder that this creature I had beleived sleeping or dead would ever approach his vision, even in his deepest dreams or his most lasting death. Because I had heard of such plans, such visions, and I knew they did not see far enough. That what was demanded in the way of a plan needed to go beyond tongue and teeth, taste and hunger, beyond the bones and the very dust of bones and the wind that would come to blow the dust away. And so I began to envision a darkness that was long before the dark of night, and a strangely shining light that owed nothing to the light of day.

That day may seem like other days. Once more we feel the tiny legged trepedations, once more we are mangled by a great grinding fear, but that day will have no others after. No more worlds like this will follow, because I have a plan. A very special plan.  No more worlds like this... no more days like that.

"There are but four ways to die", a sardonic spirit might have said to me.
"There is dying that occurs relatively suddenly, there is dying that occurs relatively gradually, there is dying that occurs relatively painlessly, there is the death that is full of pain. Thus by various means they are combined, the sudden and the gradual, the painless and the painful, to yield but four ways to die... and there are no others."

Even after the voice stopped speaking I listened for it to speak again. After hours and days and years had passed, I listened for some further words. And yet all I heard were the faintest echoes remind me "there are no others... there are no others...". Was it then that I began to concieve for this world a special plan?

There are no means for escaping this world that penetrates even into your sleep, and is its substance. You are caught in your own dreaming where there is no space, and are held forever where there is no time. You can do nothing you are not told to do. There is no hope for escape from this dream, that was never yours. The very words you speak are only its very words, and yout talk like a traitor under its incessant torture.

There are many who have designs upon this world and dream of wild and vast reformations. I have heard them talking in their sleep of elegant mutations and cunning annihliations. I have heard them whispering in the corners of crooked houses, and in the alleys and narrow backstreets of this crooked creaking universe. Which they, with their new designs, would make straight and sound. But each of these new and ill concieved designs is deranged in its heart, for they see this world as if it were alone and original... and not as one of only countless others whose nightmares all proceed as a hideous garden grown from a single seed. I have heard these dreamers talking in their sleep, and I stand waiting for them as at the top of a darkened flight of stairs. They know nothing of me, and know none of the secrets of my special plan... while I know every crooked creaking step of theirs.

It was the voice of someone who was waiting in the shadows, who was looking at the moon and waiting for me to turn the corner and enter a narrow street, and stand with him in the dull gaze of moonlight. Then he said to me, he whisphered, that my plan was a mistake. That my special plan for this world was a terrible mistake.  

"because," he said, "there is nothing to do and there is no where to go, there is nothing to be and no one to know."

"your plan is a mistake", he repeated.
"This world is a mistake", I replied

The children always laughed at him, when they saw him hopping by. A funny walk, a funny man. A funny funny funny man. He made them laugh sometimes, he made them laugh oh yes he did he did he did he did he did. Oh how he made them roll. One day he took them to a place he knew, a special place, and told them things about world... this funny funny funny world, which made them laugh sometimes. He made them laugh, oh yes, he did he did he did he did. Oh how he made them roll. Then the funny man who made them  laugh, sometimes he did, revealed to them his special plan his very special funny plan. Knowing they would understand and maybe laugh sometimes. He made them laugh, oh yes he did he did he did he did, their eyes grew wide beneath their lids... and how he made them roll.

I first learned the facts from a lunatic in a dark and quiet room that smelled of stale time/space.

"There are no people, nothing at all like that. The human phenomenon is but the sum of densly coiled layers of illusion each of which winds itself upon the supreme insanity that there are persons of any kind, when all there can be are mindless mirrors laughing and screaming as they parade about in an endless dream."

But when I asked the lunatic what it was that saw itself within these mirrors, he only rocked and smiled, then he laughed and screamed and in his dark and empty eyes I saw for a moment, as if in a mirror, a formless shade of divinity in flight from its stale infinity of time and space, and the worst of all of this worlds dreams. My special plan for the laughter and the screams.

We went to see a little show that was staged in an old shed past the edge of town, and in its beginnings all seemed well. The miniature curtain stage glowed in the darkness while those dulls bounced along on their strings before our eyes. And in its beginnings all seemed well, but then there came a subtle turning point, which some had noticed and I was one... and quietly left the show, though I did not because I could see where things were going. As they antics of those dulls grew strange, and the tiny strings grew taught with the tiny pullings of tiny limbs. I wanted to witness what could never be, I wanted to see what could not be seen... the moment of consumate disaster when puppets turn to face the puppet master.

It was twilight and I stood in the greyish haze of a vast and empty building, when the silence was enriched by a revurberant voice.

"All of the things of this world", it said, "are of but one essence for which there are no words. This is the greater part which has no beginning nor end, and the one essence of this world for which there can be no words is but all the things of this world. This is the lesser part which has a beginning and shall have an end, and for which words were concieved solely to speak of."

" The tiny broken beings of this world, " it said

"The beginnings and endings of this world, " it said

"for which words were concieved solely to speak of. Now removed these words and what remains?" It asked me as I stood in the twilight of that vast empty building, but I did not answer. The question echoed over and over, but I remained silent until the echoes died. And as twilight passed into evening, I felt my special plan for which there are no words, moving towards a greater darkness.

There are some that have no voices, or none that will ever speak, because the things they know about this wold ,
because the things they feel about this world ,
because the thoughts that fill a brain that is a damaged brain,
because the pain that fills a body that is a damaged body,
exist in other worlds, countless other worlds. Each of which stands alone in an infinite empty blackness for which no words have been concieved and where no voices are able to speak. When a brain is filled only with damaged thoughts, when a damaged body is filled only with pain, and stands alone in a world surrounded by infinite empty blackness and exists in a world for which there is no special plan.




(weird)
When everyone you have ever loved is finally gone. When everything you have ever wanted is finally done with. When all of your nightmares are for a time obscured as by a shining brainless beacon, or a blinding eclipse of the many terrible shapes of this world. When you are calm and joyful and finally entirely alone, then in a great new darkness you will finally execute your special plan.

(weirder)
When everyone you have ever loved is finally gone. When everything you have ever wanted is finally done with. When all of your nightmares are for a time obscured as by a shining brainless beacon, or a blinding eclipse of the many terrible shapes of this world. When you are calm and joyful and finally entirely alone, then in a great new darkness you will finally execute your special plan.

Trollax

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Zombie, You be da bomb!
« Reply #1 on: March 22, 2003, 05:34:06 am »
So, So, So, true.  8)  :lol:  :cry:  :lol:  8)

When we are left at the end of our own illusions, we shall pick up the maker's tools and make our own dreams.

Or have I got it wrong?

~Parallel Trollax~ ~Parallel Trollax~ ~Parallel Trollax~ ~Parallel Trollax~

Trollax

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Further musings
« Reply #2 on: March 22, 2003, 06:08:57 am »
That song is so dense with info I could spend hours reading into it.

A further thought just occured to me...

Are these guys (David Tibet and Thomas Lighotti) talking about self-ownership zombie? It seems to me that the madness they're talking about is like fanaticism of a sort, the way people want to believe in their own illusions and enjoy thinking that the world is solid and real

Quote
But when I asked the lunatic what it was that saw itself within these mirrors, he only rocked and smiled, then he laughed and screamed and in his dark and empty eyes I saw for a moment, as if in a mirror, a formless shade of divinity in flight from its stale infinity of time and space, and the worst of all of this worlds dreams. My special plan for the laughter and the screams.


The question is then asked what are we, is it not? What sees itself within these mirrors?
How does a coalescing universe cover it's tracks?
Where are the answers in a world of confusion?
The spider does not see, does that mean her children are also blind?

ZombieZombieZombie, Dude, this is the most reverently irreverent piece of verse I have ever read. It's where you got your monniker from isn't it?

I understand what you say when it's sacred, it's about breaking free, about recognising your own madness (and many much bigger and better things) as madness, I am but a child before this, but I still want to marvel at it.  I'm not sure wether to just sit quietly or rave and rant about it's emergently attributed virtues which it has awoken in me.

When the universe is ended, when there is nothing left, when our creator abandons us, we pick up its tools and make our own universe, our own dream to follow.

The very words you speak are only its words!!!

Is it hopeless? Because we cannot name it. we cannot claim it, any conception we have of it is only an allegory of the greater reality, spirals within spirals, within spirals, within spirals, within spirals, within spirals, within spirals...

Again let me close by saying woha...

And oh yes... I may be batty.

~Nebulous Trollax~

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I have a special plan for this world.
« Reply #3 on: March 23, 2003, 02:35:57 am »
I thought you'd like that one, Trollax.

Honestly, I'm not entirely sure what is meant by the piece... but even without complete understanding there is the sense of being overwhelmed. I derive Nihilism from the piece more than anything.

There are no people.
All of the things of this world are of but one essence.
A darkness that existed long before the dark of night, and a strangely shining light that owes nothing to the light of day.

When a damaged brain is filled only with damaged thoughts, and a damaged body is filled only with pain, and exists in world for which there is no special plan.

You get the feeling that the seeker feels as if he is moving beyond, or somehow augmenting and embracing, the nihilism in the piece. No more worlds like this, No more days like that.

It is common for humans to feel powerful and whole, when in fact they are not. They are damaged goods. They are not the whole of everything, they are merely a manifestation of something deeper than that which they percieve. One essence, for which there are no words.

The very words you speak are only its very words.

Trollax

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Something sacred from my own brain...
« Reply #4 on: March 23, 2003, 06:17:03 am »
If one ignores human perceptual notions of positive and negative with regards to the piece we tend to get the impression (like you said zombie) that the writer embraces the darkness...

Funny things have happened to me with regards to darkness... :twisted:  :twisted:  :twisted:

On several occasions during deep sleep periods I have experienced what has been variously called satori, the hum, collective memory, etc. All it was however was a senosry overload that existed in total darkness.

Quote
take away the teeth and the tongue the taste and the hunger. Take away everything as it is. That was my plan, my own special plan for this world."


To remove one's own perceptual mindset from one's thought processes is a frightening experience you lose your identity; something that must be surrendered, but ultimately (i Feel) something that is not supposed to be lost.

To me it sounded like many descriptions I have read on the subject of taoism and my own personal musings, that total nothing is desirable, that the ultimate conclusion of spiritual practice leads us to an empty void where our identity is surrendered to a greater whole and our consciousness becomes as indistinct as the universe itself.

Yet as I said how can we know what lies beyond our insanity? Omar and Mal must have thought there was a way, that's why they were so intrigued with their own stupidity...

Quote
"What is this?" mumbled one to the other, "A religion based on The Goddess of Confusion? It is utter madness!"

    And with those words, each looked at the other in absolute awe. Omar began to giggle. Mal began to laugh. Omar began to jump up and down. Mal was hooting and hollering to beat all hell. And amid squeals of mirth and with tears on their cheeks, each appointed the other to be high priest of his own madness, and together they declared themselves to be a society of Discordia, for what ever that may turn out to be.


Just as stated the madness is personal...
Quote

"There are no people, nothing at all like that. The human phenomenon is but the sum of densly coiled layers of illusion each of which winds itself upon the supreme insanity that there are persons of any kind, when all there can be are mindless mirrors laughing and screaming as they parade about in an endless dream."

But when I asked the lunatic what it was that saw itself within these mirrors, he only rocked and smiled, then he laughed and screamed and in his dark and empty eyes I saw for a moment, as if in a mirror, a formless shade of divinity in flight from its stale infinity of time and space, and the worst of all of this worlds dreams. My special plan for the laughter and the screams.


Perhaps that not nothing we see is real, but nothing that we perceive is real. The world of the mind that runs around in circles insisting that there must be higher purpose, grand design, and an omnipresent, all-powerful, and benevolent god who allows people to murder their children over five dollars.

Why are we mad?

Because this world is a mistake.

Our reasoning constantly reinforces itself, saying that if you can reach a conclusion it must be right, if we are disgusted by a behaviour we have reached the right morality, if we win a bloody war then we are righteous.

Zombie if you've never read Phillip K. Dick's VALIS I suggest you do so, It talks about alot of similar things:
The possibility that there is a grand design, but it is in way understood properly.
Our value systems are twisted and out of shape, that we are all in some way damaged and just waiting to explode.
When Dick actually meets god's saviour she kind of helps to spell things out to him. He realises that he's been runnig around in circles and relying on twisted reasoning to justify his own mad imaginings.

Just last night I had a dream where I was living in a maze-like subterranean city, somebody was going to try and kill me and dishonour me (apparently I was kind of famous for some reason) and the one place I could go that would save me was into an unexplored cavern with no flashlight. I didn't go, why? because I was terrified of the implied shapes in the darkness.

Why didn't I brave the darkness?
Why do we fear the darkness of an uncertain reality?

Routine.

No matter how far we have come, no matter how far we have to go we fear that which contradicts our reasoning, that which challenges our dearly cherished conventions...

Quote

Controversy is the key
That shows us things we will not see
and common sense shal breed dissent
and this is what it says.


I have had my conventions cruelly ripped from me, on two separate occasions. It feels like madness itself; having skirted the edge of sanity for a few weeks here and there over the previous two years I know what that feels like too.
To contravene everything that makes up our identity is madness

"But when I asked the lunatic what it was that saw itself within these mirrors,"

Yet to simply believe that what you percieve in front of you as truth is equally mad:

"when all there can be are mindless mirrors laughing and screaming as they parade about in an endless dream."

Where does the balance lie?

The darkness of course.
The Tao, flow etc.

It is not that when we release human notions we suddenly become supreme and divine (as some cult leaders would have us believe) but that we become more human.

As an example here's a "prayer" I quoted to forever ("god" if you will) but a week ago

Hear me now forever for I am Hellion,
Let me be transparent to myself.
May I never be lead astray by my own thoughts
May I always be able to see what is truly in front of me
May I always be transparent to myself.
May I never be blinded by the apparent rightness of my beleifs.
May I always be transparent to myself.
This is my intention this is my word and my will It shall be so with or without you it shall be so, i merely ask to have the strengthe when I need it.

It still falls short of the formless reality in that piece you wrote down zombie, but the basic structure is there and that's what I'm talking about.
It's what they were talking about (perhaps :wink: )

The fall of the Maya, the end of the Memeplex, the gnosis of the soul into an as yet unknown something for:

The very words we speak are only our words.

Pick up your sword, plant your seeds, and pay your taxes! Just because your illuminated doesn't mean you're special!

~Brainbaking Trollax~

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I have a special plan for this world.
« Reply #5 on: March 23, 2003, 11:21:24 am »
"all of the things of this world are of but one essence, for which there are no words. This is the greater part, which has no beginning and no end."

In the past, I have called this "God".  But even that word fails in communication of that aspect. You can communicate this, but there is little you can do to percieve it. You simple know of it, and see evidence of it, and it is true.

IS.

Quote
If one ignores human perceptual notions of positive and negative with regards to the piece we tend to get the impression (like you said zombie) that the writer embraces the darkness...


Positive and Negative exist, to us, because we are a subdivision of the one essence for which there are no words. Each of these things relates to each other, and in these relations positive and negative are formed with the self as a reference point... but the greater truth is that all things are the same.

There is only existence, because there is nothing that does not exist.

Quote
On several occasions during deep sleep periods I have experienced what has been variously called satori, the hum, collective memory, etc. All it was however was a senosry overload that existed in total darkness.


I think this thing, you describe, is omnipresent... in this age it is beginning to manfest corporeally, and will continue to do so.  The internet is part of this.  Collective conciousness is a big thing with me.


Quote
To remove one's own perceptual mindset from one's thought processes is a frightening experience you lose your identity; something that must be surrendered, but ultimately (i Feel) something that is not supposed to be lost.


Thats very enlightening.
I'm tired, so I'll be brief.

I havent read any P.Dick... but I want to, and I will.







I have a special plan for this world will always have a special place in my heart. I'll have to post the other piece by Tibet that I like (most of his music sucks) when I have the time to do so.

I find, in myself, that my sense of self is in a state of flux. I try to break it down and destroy it, and build it back up again. I repeat the process. I beleive this helps foster understanding, and the ability to adapt,  in my own spirit (ego, ressurection body, avatar, whatver) if you will.  The special plan helps me do this.

Trollax

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Relevant Madness
« Reply #6 on: March 26, 2003, 01:48:22 am »
If everything is madness what is truth?

Why is truth important?

Truth defines us.

What relevance is definition in a mad universe?

personal.

What is truth?

Whatever sets you free.


In short:

Everything Is bullshit...

It's just a question of what Bullshit sets you free.


~Freelymad Trollax~

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I have a special plan for this world.
« Reply #7 on: March 26, 2003, 03:55:07 am »
To apply that kid of positive or negative connotation to anything, is not important.

Trollax

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I have a special plan for this world.
« Reply #8 on: March 26, 2003, 08:56:10 am »
It's a human value, for a human system, that affects human minds.

the "bullshit" connotation is meaningless, it could easily be "wonderful" OR "Madness" OR "Sechzuan"

~Semantical Trollax~

Irreverend Hugh, KSC

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Try Carlos Castaneda...
« Reply #9 on: April 15, 2003, 08:28:37 am »
Try Carlos Castaneda's writings for some truly ornery shit....but mindblowing when the implications start dancing in your unconsciousness.
"Time for the tin-foil hats, girls and boys!"

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« Reply #10 on: April 15, 2003, 08:40:27 am »
Carlos Casteneda is what got me started on this whole thing, actually.

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« Reply #11 on: April 15, 2003, 09:38:05 am »
It seems you and I have more in common than we may realize. Carlos Castaneda's writings have done some wonders on opening my mind up.
"Time for the tin-foil hats, girls and boys!"

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« Reply #12 on: April 15, 2003, 09:44:33 am »
I read Castenada a loooong time ago. (IE when I was 14-16)

So I've forgotten a lot.
But It was a huge influence on me, in a good way, and it lives on in the back of my subconcious mind.

Recently, oddly enough, I've been trying to read the first book again. But I havent had much patience. Perhaps I'll brew some coffee and keep trying, I have to work in six hours.

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« Reply #13 on: April 15, 2003, 09:54:44 am »
Coffee and Castaneda definitely make an interesting work day after being up all night.
"Time for the tin-foil hats, girls and boys!"

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« Reply #14 on: April 15, 2003, 09:56:40 am »
The part of me which is weak desires sleep.

But then again, maybe that is not the weak part... I am an insomniac and I have stuck my head in the computer box.