{"id":199327,"date":"2019-12-16T08:26:19","date_gmt":"2019-12-16T08:26:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/?p=199327"},"modified":"2019-12-19T07:00:53","modified_gmt":"2019-12-19T07:00:53","slug":"merry-christmas-and-here-is-a-much-revised-copy-of-an-old-posting-from-visible-origami","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/?p=199327","title":{"rendered":"Merry Christmas and Here is a much revised copy of an old posting from Visible Origami"},"content":{"rendered":"<h1 style=\"text-align: center;\">Smoking Mirrors \u2013 Dec 15, 2019<\/h1>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: left;\">Here&#8217;s something I wrote about 15 years ago (and just added considerably to this evening) somewhere in the approach to Christmas of that year. Merry Christmas IN EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD. I wish I had one of those Tibetan things that spins when you turn it and I would write Merry Christmas all over it and hook it up to a solar battery (now there&#8217;s irony for you) so that it would just spin and spin.<\/h5>\n<h5>Dog Poet Transmitting&#8230;&#8230;.<\/h5>\n<h5>&#8220;A Virtual Cathedral&#8221;<\/h5>\n<h5>A vast, groined ceiling, of stained glass&#8230;the light of the thing its all about, makes a never ending statement of all that can be understood about it, by being the same thing over and over again, while changing color, every time it touches the spectrum from which it passed&#8230; from the spiritual to the material and these are simply degrees of the same thing.<\/h5>\n<h5>God and The Devil are only terms we use to define our own nature and what inspires our acts. The Devil is the way the wicked see God and desire is the instrument of God&#8217;s will.<\/h5>\n<h5>Those who serve the darkness, are driven by the darkness toward an epiphany of light. It cannot be evaded. Even the worst of us cannot escape it forever. At the name of Jesus Christ EVERY knee shall bow, because the name means Liberty and before the promise of one&#8217;s own freedom, fealty is an automatic vow.<\/h5>\n<h5>Godhead is the objective of all our pursuits, as the God within, searches for the parts of himself that shattered out of the mirror, in which he saw his loneliness and so the adventure began. Existence is a game of hide and seek. One part of ourselves is in search of the other and&#8230; serendipity awaits for each rose that blooms in its time. Some have long ago achieved it and some will not find it for many lives to come. Existence is the self in search of the self and in between the searcher and his objective, weaves the dancing lady. She is the rest stop of time. She is the once and present Future Exit.<\/h5>\n<h5>Hallelujah&#8230;.<\/h5>\n<h5>Old guys with long beards get really complicated because sex left them in the cheap seats. Men come to their wits end arguing about it but it is gone, along with the hope of all that was &#8230;and for which they substituted it. No man ever robbed himself so effectively as these.<\/h5>\n<h5>Young children who don&#8217;t even know what that is do not care&#8230; Life went on forever, until they discovered that bane from which all their heartaches and suffering emerged.<\/h5>\n<h5>The oceans of circular life cover the sands of time and there buried&#8230; are more sorrows and broken dreams than ever there were poet or philosopher to sing or define. Forward then to that point where ours are buried too.<\/h5>\n<h5>Hallelujah&#8230;<\/h5>\n<h5>I am the shape of the very thing entire<br \/>\nto which every heart does aspire<br \/>\nVentrulian man I am<br \/>\nspread out upon the quicksand<br \/>\nin endless suspension<br \/>\nof doubt<br \/>\nfaith is the join<br \/>\nthat holds at the points of the star<br \/>\nand UNDER THE ROSE<br \/>\nI am&#8230;<br \/>\nBorn in a fit of splendor<br \/>\nout of the womb of God<br \/>\nTwin Mary&#8217;s bespeak the reconciled throne<br \/>\nfor I will not sit here alone.<\/h5>\n<h5>Hallelujah&#8230;<\/h5>\n<h5>Three wise men and a bunch of bit players, without speaking parts, did or did not show up in Bethlehem; hereafter to be called The House of Bread and did or did not pay homage to a child born of a virgin, or a non virgin and the reality of whether it was or is&#8230; or did or didn&#8217;t&#8230; had no effect on the beauty of the thing&#8230;. it did leaven regardless. It did rise, as everlasting genius from the mind behind the mind that imagined it had conceived it.<\/h5>\n<h5>Poets<\/h5>\n<h5>artists<\/h5>\n<h5>dreamers<\/h5>\n<h5>and mathematicians<\/h5>\n<h5>Hallelujah&#8230;<\/h5>\n<h5>Everlasting glory and blessings that cannot be counted, poured down upon the population and even the hot blasting sound of killer aircraft and Versace designed suicide vests, splatter-casting the mall with body parts and broken i-pods, could not kill the music in the human heart.<\/h5>\n<h5>Hallelujah&#8230;.<\/h5>\n<h5>The evil cry out, while the soul is screaming for release and it will go right on doing so till doomsdays brakes lock up in a burning ozone laden stench, on the darkest highway of the desperate drowning heart of a damned humanity.<\/h5>\n<h5>Madmen killled and tortured hundreds of millions&#8230;entire worlds were enslaved&#8230;mighty kings from Africa crossed the oceans in chains and sang our salvation from beneath the whips of the damned&#8230;<\/h5>\n<h5>Double screaming Hallelujah&#8230;.<\/h5>\n<h5>Those unthanked and often unremembered, made Small Pox and her backup band get down on their knees before a dark glory hole and taught the universe the meaning of dwarf stars&#8230; blind men feeling for purchase in a world gone missing, agitate like an oyster in the irritation of a pearl &#8230;but it is not the world that is lost. The rain dulled minds of gloom, expecting\u00a0nothing &#8230;but down they fell into the golden tumbling sorrow of their ruin\/ one day there will be no tomorrow. No more reaching for an answer in the night, sooner or later it will be forever and they will disappear into the light. Now, they see the highways. Now they see the towns. Now they see the distance in which everything without meaning is found. All of it keeps changing, so none of it is real&#8230; if there is any meaning it will depend on how you feel<\/h5>\n<h5>Hallelujah&#8230;<\/h5>\n<h5>don&#8217;t touch me darling, I am dreaming, asleep like a serpent coiled inside a stone, when I awake the world turns into laughter\u00a0and Earth will quake and silence be broken, for you I tell this thing; alabaster statues just make the pigeons shit and I am in the midst of it&#8230; so this is how the circle will close.<\/h5>\n<h5>So this is life? nothing so softens the hard horn of a brutish nature, as the constant massaging hands of conscience that is Bodywork by God.<\/h5>\n<h5>Don&#8217;t tell me Hark the Herald Angels can&#8217;t sing.<\/h5>\n<h5>Planets in merciless precision rubbed up against each other and made the music of the spheres. Cassiopeia took off her clothes and the world disappeared&#8230;nothing could kill it. Down in the dirtiest muck of the Deadwood version too ugly to film, arose a light that could not be extinguished.<\/h5>\n<h5>but planets turn beyond the scope of mean and angry lives and blood is spilled and coffee drunk, while it goes on apace and you my darling also-rans&#8230; must one day come before the throne, before the face of God. It dies each time it reaches and in wanting&#8230; it denies&#8230; the thing it thought would talk in tongues &#8230;which you did not understand.\u00a0The world is yet a sacred place, so trample if you must &#8230;but you trample on yourselves of course &#8230;and it&#8230; t&#8217;was ever thus.<\/h5>\n<h5>It broadcast itself before there were ears to hear or eyes to see and it endured &#8230;and nothing could dim it.<\/h5>\n<h5>Hallelujah&#8230;.<\/h5>\n<h5>Every twisting enemy, masquerading in the genomes, did no more than make us love more. Hatreds past remembering their cause, could not take away the hope. Real life situations worse than all the books written about them just made us try harder.<\/h5>\n<h5>Even in the darkest false light of bad neon, we found the time to wonder. Somebody wondered&#8230;somebody wrote it down and somebody reached out for it. I read it and you read it and I reached out and you reached out sometime&#8230;.once long ago &#8230;and it tattooed itself all around the kingdom throne forever. Cherubs climbed in and out of Escher&#8217;s head, as the art deco work made everlasting beauty of the stage upon which it was performed&#8230;<\/h5>\n<h5>Men and women burned. The stark evidence of our treachery was unmasked over and over and still comes back to haunt us today&#8230;.but not forever&#8230;<\/h5>\n<h5>Giordano Bruno, my dear and beloved friend&#8230;<\/h5>\n<h5>Hallelujah&#8230;<\/h5>\n<h5>Copernicus&#8230;.<\/h5>\n<h5>Hallelujah&#8230;<\/h5>\n<h5>Galileo<\/h5>\n<h5>Hallelujah&#8230;<\/h5>\n<h5>Mahatma Gandhi&#8230;Martin Luther King<\/h5>\n<h5>Hallelujah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<\/h5>\n<h5>and especially everyone unnamed&#8230;most especially every anonymous hero, in every moment of crisis, when there was no soundtrack and there were no grips&#8230;<\/h5>\n<h5>multi-double screaming hallelujah<\/h5>\n<h5>up out of the coarse and twisted mix<\/h5>\n<h5>up!!!<\/h5>\n<h5>always&#8230;. up<\/h5>\n<h5>So&#8230;. you ask me if there was a Jesus?<\/h5>\n<h5>So you ask me if there IS a Christ?<\/h5>\n<h5>I tell you that the legends and the trick lighting are just the Hollywood we put between us and the things we love and it don&#8217;t matter&#8230;..<\/h5>\n<h5>I have seen the dignity and the courage rise over and over and over again. I have seen this Jesus Christ in hearts where his presence was unknown&#8230; a time bomb ticking&#8230; an alarm clock ringing- one day.<\/h5>\n<h5>I have seen the mark he made on history and the masterpiece he made of the human heart and there is no actual record of him being here. There is zero evidence other than what was written down by men at different times, who may or may not have met him at the time but most certainly met him at another.<\/h5>\n<h5>So you tell me&#8230;.where does it come from?<\/h5>\n<h5>Hallelujah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<\/h5>\n<h5>and<\/h5>\n<h5>bring it on&#8230;..<\/h5>\n<h5>and<\/h5>\n<h5>Merry Christmas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<\/h5>\n<h5>Addendum;<\/h5>\n<h5>I woke up this morning<br \/>\nFrom a magical dream<br \/>\nNo, it wasn\u2019t magic<br \/>\nIt was somewhere in between<br \/>\nA promise and a miracle<br \/>\nOf something left unsaid<br \/>\nI can\u2019t remember what it was<br \/>\nIt\u2019s still inside my head<br \/>\nAll this time that I\u2019ve been searching<br \/>\nJust as hard as I know how<br \/>\nI go on and on believing<br \/>\nIt will come to me somehow<br \/>\nAnd now it\u2019s finally happened<br \/>\nAnd it doesn\u2019t seem that odd<br \/>\nTo go to sleep and then receive<br \/>\nA love letter from God<\/h5>\n<h5>End Transmission&#8230;&#8230;.<\/h5>\n<h3 style=\"text-align: center;\">Today&#8217;s Song is;\u00a0\u266b<a href=\"https:\/\/lesvisible.com\/track\/walk-thru-the-fire-or-burn\"><span style=\"color: #ffff00;\">Walk Through the Fire or Burn<\/span>\u266b<\/a><\/h3>\n<h5>Pocketnet tonight has been brilliant. <a href=\"https:\/\/pocketnet.app\/visible?report=shares&amp;msocialshare=true&amp;ref=PP3oXZTHMv31cZPKohQWuiQgxzY1eMFDhE\"><span style=\"color: #ffff00;\">Here&#8217;s how you get there<\/span><\/a> and thanks for all your support my friends; you are wonderful companions for me on this road.<\/h5>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/www.smoking-mirrors.com\/2019\/12\/merry-christmas-and-here-is-much.html\">Source<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A seasonal message from Les Visible<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":124,"featured_media":144651,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[61],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-199327","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-Commentary"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/199327","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/124"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=199327"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/199327\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":199334,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/199327\/revisions\/199334"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/144651"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=199327"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=199327"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=199327"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}