THIS IS THE END, BEAUTIFUL FRIEND
"Up from Earth's Center through the Seventh Gate
I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,
And many Knots unravel'd by the Road,
But not the Knot of Human Death and Fate."
--The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, E. Fitzgerald trans.
...But I'm not Omar. He was a great poet and thinker who had the misfortune
of being born
within the Moslem system of thought, which is nearly as much a disadvantage
as being a
Christian. The Mohammedan religious beliefs leave no room for discovering
who and what
you really are. Not unless you break from them, which if you consider the
reactions of
Moslem fundamentalists to heresy, is very hazardous to your health. This
disadvantageous
situation might possibly be responsible for his evident depression and
fondness for alcohol.
The verse above is written within the framework of astrological mysticism.
In that frame,
Saturn is viewed as the limit of the physical world and in Omar's day was
viewed as the lord
of death. Since then, three more planets have been found outside the orbit
of the planet
Saturn, with a probability I posit of one more yet to be found (there is
currently no ruler for
the sign Libra, and anyone who believes the ancient assignment of Venus
to that sign is
slightly stupid). In the verse above, Omar stands at the edge of human
knowledge and looks
out into the darkness from which comes back to him no answer.
The answer to poor Omar's two part question is quite simple. The body is
merely a
complex machine that a person operates by means of flows of energy and
intention,
analogous to a person's body driving a car. A car has controls which can
be worked to make it
do things. A body also has controls -- almost infinitely finer and more
delicate than a car's --
that can be worked to make it do things. When a body dies its operator
abandons it, and
usually finds a new model to drive. Only instead of a car dealership, a
person finds a new
body at just before, during or right after birth. Hospitals and nurseries
are very popular
places among ghosts. So that answers Omar's question about human death.
Usually a person
gets another body -- occasionally not, due to insanity, spiritual reenlightenment,
or a
temporary shortage of new births.
Now to the second half of Omar's plaintive query: human fate. I suppose
that could be a
little slippery depending on exactly how one defines "fate", but I'm going
to use what
definition suits me, to hell with what you think!
I suppose Omar means "fate after death". First thing that happens is the
person pops out
of the body and hovers a few feet above it and looks down on it. This seems,
from my
personal memories of being killed, to be a trigger for what the pop psychologists
are calling
these days "closure". A person looks down on the dead body and lets it
really sink in that
their prized possession is no longer functional. Somewhere around this
point (timing varies a
bit from person to person) they relive their entire lifetime as a high
speed movie. This is
viewed in the greatest detail -- not just highlights! -- in literally an
instant. If this doesn't
sound possible to you, please be advised that your precious stable reality
is not what you
think it is. Subjective elapsed time is variable, and controllable by a
person.
This mechanism of reliving the entire life sometimes kicks in when a person
is close to
death, or has a very close call of some sort. People have reported having
their entire life "flash
before their eyes" in an instant during accidents.
The next thing that happens to most of us is that various forgetters kick
in on us from the
depths of our minds. One causes a person to simply to float slowly upward
away from the
body until all the details below are too far way to see clearly. While
this happens a blurring is
going on within the memory that leaves most newborn babies with a blank
slate.
Another forgetter is one that I personally dislike and find vaguely alarming:
a tunnel
materializes around the person, down which they are swept until they either
enter a blinding
light or a golden image. I've managed to trigger this mechanism while alive,
in this lifetime in
fact, and I'd like you to know that it can be overcome with sufficient
application of energy
and intention. I blasted my way out by causing a mental burst of white
light right into the
golden icon at the end of the tunnel. This destroyed the entire hallucination.
I hope that
whoever the sick sombitch was who thought up that one is permanently stuck
to a golden
idol hanging on a wall somewhere on an otherwise uninhabited planet. Fuck
you, buddy!
As for fate, like I said earlier, most of us simply reincarnate at that
point. But there are
some disquieting facts that I'd like to share with you. One is that animals
seem to be operated
by the same sort of thing that operates human bodies, but those spirits
aren't as powerful.
Are they the same thing we are, or something else? To be completely honest
with you, I don't
know. It may be that by operating bodies we slowly over millenia or aeons
degenerate into
weaker and weaker conditions. Was a spider once like us? It is what I fear.
But perhaps not.
If true then our fate may be to become weaker and weaker as we are ground
down by the
weight of our experiences. If this is true then Gautama (the Buddha) was
right and we should
disconnect from the world. Indeed, if true perhaps we should entirely give
up living in bodies
upon planets.
What I have to tell you is that reality is not what you've been taught.
Everything you
think about your own nature and the nature of the universe around you is
as false as medieval
sailors who thought that the world was flat. The only thing flat around
here is your poor
head. I'm not making this shit up. I remember things you wouldn't believe.
I don't remember
any "beginning" to the universe or to myself. Perhaps there was one. Perhaps
not. The last
and final word I have for you as to your fate, O Human, is that near as
my memories of the
past can determine, we are all immortal spirits that go on being conscious
for eternity. Your
body can fail but you can never cease to exist.
There you go, Omar. Happy?
Ouran