Post cards from Orbis Tertius

[jack_babalon]

The history of the universe...is the handwriting produced by a minor god in order to communicate with a Demon.
-- Jorge Luis Borges
"Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius"

I learned of the Fiction Cancer roughly fourteen years ago during my tour of duty in the first Gulf War. The Cancer was why we were there in the first place and, if the truth most be known, it is why we are there now. From what I gathered from some mutual friends involved inPsyOp: Kether, It was released sometime during the end of the Iran-Iraq War; when the al-Anfal campaign of the late 1980s, which led to the alleged gassing of thousands of Kurds in northern Iraq. Within those fields of corpses, buried in the sand and lost in the uncountable dead was the last Murshid(guide) of the hidden Tarika(path). This unknown sect had hid itself since the time of the prophet, disguised within the folds of the more traditional Sunni religions.
The Murshid however had a secret & sacred duty, every morning, before his more traditional devotional obligations were met, he would sing the "Flowering of a thousand mirrors", a song, as far as our intel knows about it, that was sung by the first creator God when it moved over the waters and beheld its reflection. When this happened the reflection starred back and saw another reflection, and so too did this other reflection. The exponetial explosion of "One, true Gods" led to a very destablized exsistence. The first witness, the first of the creator Gods(goddesses) became baffled by this mirror trap and closed its eyes and from this created the first song- the Ur Song if you will. The Ur Song vibrated and the other reflection Gods mouthed the words but had no voice yet, and from this realized they were but illusion and as the song progressed, God was able to bind and capture these mirage deities. It is said that later, after the universe was given formal measurements and laws of physics. God taught the first Woman the song and she in turn taught it to the first men that soon came after and they in turn taught it to their children, knowing that the song was the vibrational binding agent between God & Creation. But as the ages of man progressed each of the various tribes of creation lost the song. When the Cathar heresey was put to the flame, it was left to an obscure Sufi cult in Northern Iran to hold the binding of reality together. Now the song is lost. Something began to stir in the archealogical ruins of Babylon. Something old and very hungry was stirring and without the Ur Song there is no lulaby to lull it(them) back asleep. The Great Old One, the first reflection of the first God opened it's eyes on our world. This caused the first ripple wave of the fiction virus. An entirely new language began to appear in the Middle East, history began rewritting itself, Iraq was obliquely refered to as Uqbar in various charters. Entire events began to disappear, imaginary civilisations began creeping into text books and encylopedias. Soon the virus spread. Whole regions shifted their geography, entire cultures blossomed and flourished and vanished in a night. Time began to speed up, the infection seeped backward into the past. The course of history changed. The Republic of Mu was wiped out, nothing left of it now but obscure references in new age paperbacks. The one hint of the viruses nature was revealed by Jorge Luis Borges roughly forty years before the pandemic began. A short story titled "Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius" detailed the spread of the virus as an imaginary planet began to take over ours. The reading of the story was actually an inoculation shot. So where most of the works of HP Lovecraft supposedly, but I did'nt have clearance to get into all that.
The one way to counter the Fiction Cancer is to bombard the various higher nervous systems of the planet with rapid information bombardments. The beta state induced by constant TV broadcasts allows the consciousness to go undetected by the Fiction Cancer. Another method was pioneered by William S Burroughs & Brion Gysin. The Cut-Up method, which by distorting the language centers of the user made their consciousness unassailable by the virus. There are other methods, and new ones discovered every day.
It's been 14 years now. I've been given a new Identity. A bureaucrat in a major city in the South. Amnesia implants and artifical personality blocks were installed to keep me from remembering most of my time there. Imprints of my time in the service have been replaced with fictious memorys of being an auxiliary engineer. Unfortanately the implants and Fiction-Inoccultations are very vulnerable to high doses of THC. As I write this I can remember seeing the R'yleh rise out of the waters, I can remember our Seahawk copter landing in flames, covered in small inky black shadow things, I can remember our sister ship getting caught in one of the ripples and our aborted rescue mission as their crew was picked off one by one and carried into the Mediterranean night screaming, until their faces were erased from their heads.
I offer these words in hope, like the Borges story, that it will provide some form of immunity, some form of explanation when the walls of ignorance will no longer stave off the Fiction Cancer.

Comments

[scottopic.livejournal.com]

I actually saw some sort of weird program in the mid-80's where they'd read comics panel by panel, with minor sound effects, and pan the camera more or less following the reading --> and it had that comic!!! :O
I'll not give away the MAGIC PUNCHLINE even though it's MORE POTENT THAN DUMBLEDORE KILLING SNAPE! :O (sic)

I had a Cancer-busting missile psilo experience a few weeks ago, the first in a long time (even when shooting missiles in recent past). It as ridiculous that I thought the ceiling fan was sentient, and the ceiling fan agreed! But I also got to speak to the language that makes up everything, and though I remain a beginner -- that new convert giddiness is long to fade for me.