October 1st, 1999
“There was an unspoken flip side implication in The S.P. document, which made it something like the dual edged sword of truth. As I was reducing the event to explain it, asking myself what was the significance, then, that this dynamic, the transformation of souls had transmitted successfully from one individual to another across the globe and been commonly articulated, and yet completely unspoken, I made a startling conclusion (Sanctification Principle quote).
I bet this is starting to look pretty alarming. Don’t worry, I’ll desist, once I’ve finished with the sword arm. The above is over the top, I think, but the implication is still enormous. (Really you can only establish what was already there, verifying reality not creating it. But you’ve established it beyond environment. It’s really a chicken or the egg question: you accomplished this, but inside a set of parameters that were far too designed to be chance, which modified you. Is it God or you who’s doing it? The beauty of the redemption is that it resolves that both are happening at the same time. On one side of the coin I have established my reality beyond human perception.)
All this tooting had to do with a singular moment, one where I’d stepped right off the edge, but the only edge I could designate under the circumstance was that it was like stepping off the edge of perception itself. (Thanksgiving, 1995.) Of course this seems pretty preposterous and impossible. Except that I knew the edge, and I knew what was below it. I knew what the ones below would cackle when I fell, that they’d crow now you know what it is, to be us. I could already sense it. For with that step I would lose all meaning and everything I believed in. And I knew I would only rise again based upon my own essential purity. And I knew that I was putting myself out so far, I’d be beyond the cacklers themselves. And I knew that if any one of those fallen was in fact elect, trapped in an endless perceptual cycle of destruction they could not unloose, the arrival of my aspect would break in like a shaft, provide a pristine vantage to a pure existence, what one had been, for I had just accessed a pristine reality that I saw as heaven. And I knew that the way I would rise was when the trapped ones reacted to what they felt, and in turn acted in altruism to recover me. Through this vantage they would recognize an original perception of reality and themselves that they had lost. -Which would only happen if I were right about them, that some were fallen too. And if I was correct about my own essential purity. So I placed absolute belief in them, and I placed absolute belief in myself. On the selfsame day where I wrote the nucleus to the above, that transmission beyond perception established its reality beyond any respective perception, I was greeted by an offering; the new release of Trent Reznor arrived on the shelves. I had been waiting for it a long time.
Trent articulates the purest form of rebellion to the God order extant, the purest articulation of hate. Yet Trent was linked. His articulation of the arch-type (the feminine anointed/moon) was the complete inversion of the arch-type; he practically described her as the blood drinker of souls, putrescence itself. There was a full spectrum potential of response inside the psychic funhouse mirror, the feedback reflection. Trent was its most extreme deviance. As such Trent was the furthest indication of how far you could go.
Of course, Trent maintained his older self as well. He still treated her as the vampire of souls in other places. He still reveled in his own destruction. -And crowed his hate, as below. (“The Wretched”, “Somewhat Damaged”) There were only these shards of light as above, but they existed now in what had once been total blackness.
And I looked at what he had written, remembering my own projections. I had achieved common identity. I had fallen. I had gone past him. He knows I am beyond him. He responded precisely as I had projected. I really had stepped off that edge. So the day I wrote what the implication of stepping off that edge was, was the self-same day I received confirmation I had done it.
Furthermore the implication I had written that day, what having done that accomplished, meant that Trent’s rendering of her as the vampire of souls was irrevocably false. It was only based on his perception. The purity of awareness inside The Fragile was not. It inherently could have not transmitted, if it was false. If perception had in no way tainted the transmission, there was no way it was a false image of purity. I could not have contrived it as a deception, nor could I have been deluded, as that would have been part of my perception.
(There’s no one in existence, in this instance, other that Trent, who would be more likely to assume falsity, or deception. That’s his accusation in itself, that she is wholly evil. It’s his entire perception of her. Therefore if that was his regard of her already, it’s pretty much impossible to think that he wouldn’t have assumed it, if it bore a shred of truth. If that’s his perception of her, what transpired to alter it, especially since he was deliberately joined in the depths? Why did he not retain his original perception, which was the totality of his belief? Why, if it were true, did the reality of the fallen not assimilate with the reflection?)
In fact what had happened was just the opposite; the advent of my awareness caused him to respond as I’d projected, in true altruism, all he was capable of. As it had caused a transformation in him that was tangible, cleaved a totality of blackness with a shaft of light, it is manifestly impossible that his evil rendering of her could have any precedence over the light one.
And that was the dual edged sword of the truth. Once it is an established truth, truth established by transmission beyond perception, it achieved a form of existence beyond all respective perceptions. All the opposing renderings become false. If they continue to perpetrate themselves in the face of the truth, they become lies, by which they shall be segregated, for they generate the most heinous of untruths of their own volition, in face of the light.
I walked out of there laughing, “I’ve got your number.”
The real reason that altruism recovers him is not simply because it’s his act of selflessness, it’s because it confirms my faith in him, and my faith in stepping off the edge was absolute. This is not faith as belief; it is that selfsame faith utilized as a device. (How can you be said to exist in faith, if you are not prepared to act irrevocably on the basis of that faith?) That faith had proven true with respects to myself, because indeed it had resulted in the transformation of souls, (a potential I’d imagined possible. I’d attempted the “car crash” as stood with Jesus and Mary Chain, and had the “correct” outcomes. So that faith had not been false.) I’d believed in Trent (in fact he’d been unnamed, it dealt with an open potential), with the same faith I’d believed in myself, and that faith asserted that some were fallen, not eternally damned, and could be recovered, and that these would respond with altruism. That Trent’s action fulfilled this potential of his own volition, without knowing what it was, verifies his potential to be saved, for it sprang from his own heart. By his own heart he establishes that he is what I defined him as. That is how I got his number. The song that follows “The Fragile” is a beautiful soaring instrumental that just goes up and up and up. It is titled “Just Like You Imagined” . . .
In redemption is captured the paradox between the orchestration of circumstances, the potentials, and yet complete autonomous free will. Those potentials were sent into a void of the senses, the empty nether, more invisible than the air. They were only received if they affected and were perceived as such.
I’d danced with the dark one and won. The day he hit me with his entire arsenal, I had the refutation, I went out and wrote it; I’d already figured it out. That is why I walked out saying, “I’ve got your number.”