What does APOCALYPSE FATIGUE* even mean?

Apocalypse is a great word with a bad rap. These days, after millennia of death-humping, we can't hear the word without imagining mushroom clouds and zombies or The Fightin' Jesus slashing his way through America on a flaming horse. In the original Greek, the word simply means a lifting of the veil, and we are here just in time to see the credits roll and the lights come on at last. The movie's over. It's time for us to get real.

Fatigue comes in because it's exhausting keeping up with the Joneses (especially the Alex Joneses). Standard humans don't exist! You're worn out if you're trying at all to see behind the shape-shifting curtain masking the fact that the power game runs on blood and pain. You're beat to the ground every day if you're trying to build a better world instead of choosing what pockets to pick. It's okay. You don't have to save the world. Save yourself and the ripples will lift everyone.

What's this site all about?

Lifting veils, breaking jails, filling sails.

Have you ever felt that life is a game? Really think about that while I elaborate.

Do certain patterns attract certain effects and characters, repeating until you "get the joke" at last? Do certain symbols (magic words, special numbers, familiar images) seem to lead to auspicious events? Do certain doors seem to beckon you to certain kinds of adventures? Do you go through those doors? If not, why not?

You may feel crazy, but you're on to something. Life does not work the way you were told to expect it to work. There are three kinds of people: those who think they run the place by slave-driving others, those who feel dragged around on invisible leashes, and those who shape reality directly. The biggest secret is that no one is in charge of the big picture, so life is not a set of goals laid before you but a game that you can and must choose to play your way.

Mental illness is a term that bothers me, though I know the suffering is quite real. To me, this "illness" is just how humans react to this kind of world once they can really feel it. Depression and anxiety are a natural part of waking up to the reality of The Grand Game, and with emotional intelligence and an iron will they can be surmounted, reduced to manageable levels, or honored as great teachers. This is possible through understanding of the context of our shared predicament and self-empowerment through shifts of perspective and changes of behavior.

In this game, as in all games, one can decide how hard it is to play. Are you ready to take the controls, at long last?

Thank you spending some time here. I'm just a voice transmitting to everywhere from anywhere but I appreciate your kind attention and I hope you find something you need here. I'm not so different from you so the details are irrelevant. We're all in this together, walking each other back to that point of view at the heart of it all where the game at last makes sense, or at least gives us a damn good laugh.

I've just realized something. That damn good laugh when we finally get the cosmic joke may indeed be the point!  Let's try to make it a priority.

Here we all are, wherever and whatever Here is. Cheers to the dream tuners and the nightmare mechanics alike. It's the contrast that makes the game interesting. Since you've made it here, I'll wager you're one of those beautiful mutants who just never fit in the space you were meant to be ground down to fill, wandering the wastelands on either side of that fabled information highway that may yet show itself once the snake oil dries up.

So many of us are walking around half dead, feeling hollowed out in the hyper-real. It's awful to feel that pain of social separation, until you realize that harmony with the status quo means being out of tune with your better nature. Know thyself and you'll stop feeling so alone. Strangers we may be, but I can tell you this, whoever you are: In the long run we're all helping each other remember that the eye atop the pyramid is just our own in the mirror waiting for us to recognize our rightful place as masters of ourselves.

It's rough out there in the memefield, but don't let it get you down. It's only empires burning. As Robert Anton Wilson said, it is we who are the "power elite," not these ephemeral serpents who've bought their own sales pitch of a reality that can be labeled, packaged, and sold for 666% profit. Let them carry on thinking they run the show as the Ship of State veers into the iceberg just over the horizon. You and I have long since stashed our psychic bug-out bags on life rafts bound for the Islands of Sanity. Good journey, fellow traveler. May you find a beach that blows your mind with each new wave. 

Lux E Tenebris!

*The term can be traced back to columnist George Will, who coined it to describe the corporate media's fondness for driving panic to drive ratings. Since it's always the end of the world according to somebody these days, we're all fed up and worn out. I acknowledge the irony of my choice given that I'm doing a fair amount of whistle-blowing and chalkboard scratching myself, so tongue is firmly in cheek.

I myself picked up the phrase from this song from this record by the band Snog. I owe immeasurable debt to David Thrussell in his various forms for decades of soul-soothing and mind-expanding music that have gotten me out of many a time in the Great Dismal Swamp.