PSYCHEDELIA – OPENING THE THIRD EYE – MEETING THE MACHINE ELVES

OPENING THE THIRD EYE

Most of us have heard fairytales or folk stories about the third eye – evil eye – the psychic transcendent eye – it has many epithets. All these stories strike at a demonstrable biochemical truth.

The third eye is a remnant of our lizard brain, manifest in modern humans as the pineal gland. The pineal is the regulator of dreams and recent research links it to the production of natural dimethyltryptamine. Psilocybin is another.

Opening the third or pineal eye (e.g. taking a D.M.T. trip) may not be precisely creating a portal to another galaxy – or any phenomenon that defies the laws of physics – but it is opening portals into regions of the mind impossible to reach otherwise.

It’s a transcending experience and integral to the transcendental revelation is that most fascinating part of the psychedelic trip: the encounter with alien intelligences that are apparently conscious and – most important – can’t be easily explained as a mere drug-induced hallucination.

It’s the meeting with aliens we’ll be trying to explain over the course of this article. Almost everyone who’s tripped has a version of the encounter. It becomes an obsession for many, a mesmerising ongoing conversation spread across numerous separate trips that’s so emotionally supercharged it’s often quite literally life-altering.

PERSONALITY AND ALIENS

Personality is the iceberg tip of a multidimensional internal universe of the mind. The conscious tip doesn’t know much about what’s happening in the exponentially larger elsemind but psychedelic excitation – like a D.M.T. trip – brings tip and base into profound contact. Temporarily. Too ubiquitous to ignore, psychonauts report meeting intelligent aliens – distinct autonomous conscious intelligences. 100% real.

It’s not an illusion.

The trip-induced communion is authentic and the familiarity most feel is not misplaced.

Psilocybin, whichever its ingestion mechanism, sourced, creates certain psychotropic conditions. These don’t generally occur in sober daily life.

The psychedelic communion with “alien” intelligence is authentic.

THE MIND PAINTS SYMBOLS IN SENSES

The sights and sounds and sensations of the psychic world are symbolic – usually metaphorical – but this isn’t the same as illusionary (though it’s often mistaken as such). Executive function needs to frame the reality it’s perceiving in some comprehensible way – the same method is used when dreaming, as we can all attest.

The intensity of the psychedelic experience demands powerful symbols and that’s exactly what we get. Fundamental truth is multi-layered and while habit makes it second nature to parse revelation into limbic experience – transcendent visuals for instance – the mind has imagination for its toolkit and a palette as diverse as all memory. The trip is therefore rarely just a humdrum version of the everyday familiar world.

The representation of our psychospace machine elves excites imagination to push the envelope but the brain can’t imagine in a vacuum. It has to use what it’s got and in the case of the psychedelic encounters, nowadays this means interstellar travel and aliens against the backdrop of the universe. Meditation transcending is subject to the same methodology.

It wouldn’t have always been thus.

Religious-minded meditators often see God and angels in heaven; and report their psychedelic encounters as angels and demons rather than aliens. Yoga practitioners perceive Atman and Buddhist mandala. African animists meet ancestral spirits. Amazonian ayahuaska shaman might speak of ghosts and nature-deities.

THE MACHINE ELVES

Sights, sounds and sensations of a psychic trip (whatever the catalyst) vary but the meta of the experience is common to all. None of the standard interpretations are factually correct, however, and perhaps that’s not too surprising.

The sensually-sparkling intelligences encounterd on a D.M.T. trip (or sometimes using transcendental meditation; or during pineal panic as in near death experiences) are real. The sentient entities are conscious and not merely an ephemeral dream-illusion. It would be better to call them by the name best fitting their metaphysical attributes: MACHINE ELVES.

Machine elves are autonomous shards of sentient intelligence – fractals of consciousness – iterstions of identity – whose existence is played out entirely inside your brain’s enclosed altconscious.

But they are not you.

This enclosure shuts in the machine elves and, except during psychedelic pineal excitation, it’s an enclosure both ways, also beyond the reach of your brain’s dominant persona; that being you.

The machine elves, though confined to the pineal psychospace of your mind, were manifested, as you are, from the infinitely creative forces of homo sapiens Gaia. However many you meet, all have the same point of origin and – like you – share a common foetal ancestor. This may partly explain the familiarity felt when transcending into the pineal psychospace.

Let’s be clear about the alien interpretation, then: the machine elves exist inside your brain and nowhere else. There’s no physics-defying interstellar psychic travelling going on. The psychic universe is within your brain, not out among the stars.

The machine elves are of your brain, by your brain, for your brain. Real and quite the opposite of alien.

They are distinct networks of synopses and neurons and axioms, tangled into complex consciousness patterns. In essence the machine elves are made of the same cell-stuff as you.

Many of the machine elves are sentient. Many may not be. These neurological entities are variously developed, depending on the history of the individual locus of identity. There’s a whole spectrum of psychic life: from fungus-like personality abortions to advanced living homunculi all the way to the conscious self-aware machine elves themselves.

HOMO SAPIENS INTELLIGENCE BLUEPRINT

The machine elves share your brain but their life (such as it is) is disarmed, shackled, ringfenced inside a separated space; exiled behind impenetrable neurological walls. Your life as the dominant paradigm and the lives of the machine elves unfold out of touch with one another. In physical space the machine elves may be close but in psychic space the distances are beyond traversing; even if relative locations could be known. Which they are not.

The absolute separation between “you” and the machine elves is the denouement of a Darwinian battle that’s carried out in the foetal and newborn period of our physical existence. It’s a survival of the fittest we’ve all fought and won; though like any of the early life struggles, it doesn’t carry over into memory. None of us remember being born and, except perhaps in sewing the seeds of childhood predisposition, we don’t remember the casualties of the brutal intelligence trial-and-error from which we emerged as most successful paradigm.

The conscious “you” – the person reading or listening to these words – was the sole advanced survivor of what must’ve been a defining civil war for brain-domination, fighting to the bitter end in the crucible of natural selection. It all happened before your earliest memory. The battle was winner takes all, contested entirely in your unfinished brain and the victorious alpha-identity (you) gained control of nascent executive function. This means no less than being entrusted with the burden of mind and body survival; of going forth and multiplying.

The proto-sentient fractals, from stone baby to autonomous rival – machine elves to be – were ultimately casualties of the neurological civil war. Some – early fatalities, less developed homunculi – would have been neatly recycled early by your brain. Others, more evolved, more capable, not yet evolved to blind self-preservation would have been mulched into your new and expanding subconscious.

The persona fractals – and you – are born from the same zygote fertilisation. Stone-baby neural fungus to feeling homunculus to the imprisoned self-aware machine elves, whatever the endpoint of their particular development before falling in the Darwinian survival war, every one of the prototype homo sapiens sentience are more than brothers and sisters. They’re all iterations of personality that may, under different conditions, have become you.

(This might explain why the “aliens” are so universally welcoming and attentive, when psilocybin allows you to visit.)

PRISONERS OF THE ALTCONSCIOUS VOID

What’s more, many of the most evolved, last to fall species of intelligent identity would not have succumbed passively to termination. Their self-awareness would have evolved to be stamped through with unyielding self-preservation (that you have in spades yourself) and, despite being beaten at the Darwinian coda, could only be subdued – not recycled or mulched, separated so the keys to the prefrontal cortex are controlled by the winning intelligence only.

There can be no sharing power in a human being, just as schizophrenia couldn’t have become the norm: ways of being that’re less effective at survival (in the outside world) go extinct. The nearly-you intelligences are therefore disconnected, ringfenced, imprisoned. No appeal. No hope of parole. Nature is, after all, a pragmatic path of least resistance force.

(Why is the survival of the fittest is the natural way to play out which experiment in alpha persona intelligence is best for taking the reigns. Natural selection is intelligent design results without the creator, using time and extinction as the most level playing field.)

(Brain is biochemical. There’s no blueprint for finished homo sapiens intelligence. There can only be a blueprint for the more basic algorithm that sets in motion the Darwinian trial and error natural selection. Like a mother nature doing machine learning and end result just as impenetrable…)

These fully-formed loci of sentient identity become the machine elves once they’ve been isolated and imprisoned out of the cooling settling mind-nursery maelstrom. Ghosts in the machine, in a sense, doomed to haunt an psychic space that’s like a pocket universe locked away in the lizard brain region of the brain.

Although they’ve been silenced and, except in cases of mental illness, securely locked away from interference with the dominance of your autonomy, these self-perpetuating homunculus tangles of neurons must be made to “live” – the most evolved will have gone far enough to be coded for decades of life – in a disconnected headspace that’s also stable enough not to traumatize machine elves to madness. Psychological breakdown in part of the overall system can be fatal to the sanity of the entire mental space; to be avoided as a core function of the homo sapiens blueprint.

https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-019-02475-x?utm_source=fbk_nnc&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=naturenews&sf217830820=1&fbclid=IwAR1Z9FfpeggKebfBgZOum6ylk1KausDFIOfzVnjbzR_AR-tdGBHOb2r2Ja4

Published by: ubercynic.com

The ubercynic is a cynician, if you will. Cynicians have lately proven surprisingly antagonistic to those sententious voices most committed to amplifying contemporary opinion. “In cyberspace, nobody can hear you dream."

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