If you Google “City” and then button {images}, you get tall buildings, usually at night, a kind of  <city-nightscape>, as against a <seascape etc.>.

What Tales must live in this architectural mystery.  We humans are proud of our great Cities.  Cites that are not so much anti-nature, as they are nature-owned&tamed.  The Wild secured, at least - possibly - for the few whose offices and homes are far above the fray below.

Too much Wild in humans, though.  The point being that the Wild is the roots of us, as we are the descendents of legends.   Climb the Ladders of the City, and even in the Above, there remains the Wild as well.  What else crashed the money-numbering games, as always.

Yesterday I was watching TV, and a wonderful vista of a snow covered mountain held on to the screen long enough to remind me of this (from GG’s The Plant -

A mountain, in terms of its plant life, is a repetition of general changes the whole plant world undergoes, as we go from the equator to the poles.  The forms of vegetation change, in shape, size (smaller), color, until they become just ground cover, with deeply inter-connected roots, whether we rise from valley floor to serious mountain top, or from the life-rich and dark character of the Equatorial Regions, toward the almost life-less poles, just white and blue - a stark and powerful embrace.

CITY bears a similar ‘story’ among human social organizations.  Go toward the poles, people have to live by basics.  Go up in the City, basics too, but there is one glaring defect.  In the City, you are no longer on the ground, winning your existence directly.  You have roots and tendrils, inter-connected with the whole landscape of the economic above, which forever seeks to rule the economic below.  These dark appetite-roots, become joined with thoughts that are too cold, because numbers rule here, and to survive the heart must be give away the colors of its soul, to cold dreams. 

Do not despair.  The “What Is” tells a story.  Learn to read it.  From these Aeries (Trump Towering Towers), those who believe they are the rulers of the CITY, seem to suck out its life’s-blood.  But more goes on in the <Forge-that-is-the-Middle>, than we yet are willing to adore.  Patience, please.

CITY is a place where dominance games are played, and the City is itself a symbol of our fantasy dominance over Nature, as long as we forget Climate Change, water shortages, and staying alive.  Problem is those who have Way more than they need, and who think there is nothing wrong with that.  And, what’s worse, these same folk don’t think we can harm the life-sphere of the planet enough to destroy our whole species.

Unfortunately, they’re right.  The CITY’s inhabitants are already immortal.  And, ... there are Real Gods, and They can reach a limit in how much we get to fuck with Their Stuff.  Those folk so smashed Atlantis, that that land of ancient powers and knowledge excesses, is only a whisper, inside a dream.   Go too far messing with the Gods, they just wipe the board clean.

The tragedy here is that if we do blow it all to hell, as the saying goes, we’ll watch ourselves do it to ourselves, ... the clear judgment of the Gods is to let us run with it, and as always, there will be survivors.

The Earth gives birth to Temples, Earth itself being the Foundation of the World Temple.  The “What Is” celebrates Itself, and can only sings songs of Itself.  This Temple needs no roof, for the very sky and stars are its Cover.  As to the Foundation, no act of human beings (yet) be but an vain and inadequate imitation of Garden that is the Whole Living Earth, without a single man-made “thing”.

The City is us running away from that which still beckons and reminds us of the Garden.  All the same the City is home to as many religions-sciences-artworks, as there are individuals.  Stand on a side-walk in NYC.  Your feet are not on the Earth, but on clumsy creations out of what has been stolen from the Earth, and then rearranged.  People of wealth doing very interesting things to their Homes and Kingdoms, often returning to the natural ambiance of raw stone and wood.  Build a tower, and then decorate it - this all about tastes, ... observe them and they tell a tale ...

But if a Society is to function together (order vs. social anarchy), a hierarchy structure is the easiest.  Eventually, however, all the social rules that have been “useful” for several thousands of years, begin to no longer be “useful” anymore.  Plain fact of existence - Change is “blow’n on the wind”, ..., because it is People that are Blowing Shit Up, stinking up the rest of the place. 

Why?  Human consciousness evolves, and right now the basic social traditions all over the world no longer accept the new human being that has come to be.  Rules and Traditions, age, and then die.  When “civilizations” die, holders of wealth and power cannot stem that Tide.

The People are then, justly dissatisfied with the folk who live above the fray, and continue to act against the Peoples’ interests.  Right now it appears, because of the Trump Event, that “authority to rule” from above, is being given a big push.  Yet, as is clearly evident everywhere, the Trump Mob doesn’t have a chance.  A mess is being made, and what it will be like when fully cooked is anyone’s guess.

CITY has a Below, as well as an <on-top-of-the-below>. 

Below: tunnels and tunnels and tunnels and pipes and wires and gates and devices arcane.  When we know better our below/unders, they will be explored and adored.  Do Gnomes and Sprites, and things that go bump in the night, lurk “below”?  Our civilization rests on so much magic-forgotten, such that our (<Western><Civilization>), finally and fully clueless, has tried to shame and replace the magical knowing of the before-time.  Scientists like the power to declare what is True.  Be okay, if they were right, but they’re not.

Suppose you could remember being a Neanderthal, lacking - seemingly - enough of the “right” kind of brain substance, and genes - lets not forget the genes.  What do you think we looked like, in the Garden, talking to God?  Were we killing each other with stones?  Fighting for survival.

Our artists conceive of the N. as having a certain animalistic type of face.  N. is just an avatar body, for an immortal spirit.  An older version of our current body.  The Body grown in the Womb is the Ride, and We are the Rider with a-lot-to-learn.

But before you really learn to be a Rider, you need to deal with initially being one of the Ridden.  Need to know both sides, Body being a really good friend, ‘n all.  Just not immortal.  There is a “wild-spirit” aspect to freedom, perceived. 

Want a sense of what N.'s consciousness might have experienced, in the Garden, talking to God ... ?

What interferes with this not being completely obvious?

A Great Spell of Enchantment, Steiner called: The A. Deception.  Author of that bit of magic, has a name and is greatly hated and feared, when he was just doing his job - the same job as us: Being Ourselves.  So our un-natural science tries to convince that there is only matter, but no spirit.   All the spirit-talk stuff of our ancestors from the deep before-time is the human mind fooling itself.  Lot of that going around, even today.

Then /!\, above the dark unknown Below: Street Life!:

The Zone, Bach on Steroids: The: <In Between the Below and the Above>: The Heart of the CITY.  Headed towards a impossible future, however.  William Gibson, who gave us the Idea/word: Cyberspace, calls the future Eastern USA corridor of “cities”, just one City: the Sprawl.  Civilization may fall, but a lot of plastics, roaches, and concrete, will remain.  Keep in mind that humans generally find a Way to live anywhere.  Some humans will decide to no longer be human, discarding the flesh for a probably really cool appearing body, that won’t get flabby, and have too much gas.

Sadly ... consciousness is spirit in action, and can’t be reduced to lines of code.  A vanity dream of immorality, driven by a fear of death, of a group of beings already immortal.  The enchantment/deception means to force us to forget the Gods, who in the meantime have not forgotten us.

Most of our visionaries, out of the Well of the Collective Imagination, see a world were appetites control, and just surviving is a daily war.  So, I was asking this rock-person the other day.  We were both just sitting there, not going anywhere.  Why would we go anywhere?  I had to listen very carefully, for poems about the taste of light, and the passion in the caress of warmth, are not spoken with words.   So the Sun was tasted and the caress brought swoon.  Rock-stories: one kind, many persons, all poets.   Old friends since forever.

Everyone’s prayers get answered.  With a bit of a caution: <“You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometimes ... well you just might find ... You get what you need”>   Rolling Stones

Surfing the Coming Tsunami of Future History