Stage play
by Jon Rappoport
December 8, 2014
Stage play. Audience in the theater.
But the actors are speaking a language no one, and I mean no one, has ever heard before.
They’re making it up as they go along.
The audience is enraged. If they had weapons, they’d open fire.
This situation I’ve just described is life on Earth in a capsule. It’s where we are.
Reality addiction is a powerful force backed up by the over-enlarged bulge of the ordinary mind…which by the way its owners believe is rational. There’s nothing rational about it, unless a dog, by virtue of its training, is rational.
Nor is the pride that goes along with owning an ordinary mind. It’s fatuous. It’s absurd, and quite insane. That pride is always ready to open fire indiscriminately. It’s always on the verge of exploding.
If you can coerce one of these morons into a museum, here is what he’s looking for: apples hanging on the wall that look exactly like real apples.
They even taste the same. He can pick one up and bite into it.
So this is what you do. You move all the other people out of the place and leave him in there, and you lock the outside doors. Now he’s in prison. Once a day or so, over the next six months, you slide in a tray of food.
He has to wander from room to room cursing all the paintings, hating them, which is his natural inclination.
He has to keep this up.
But he can’t avoid looking at the paintings.
And then one day, standing in front of an abstract painting, a thin sliver of a glance shoots out from the painting and hits him in the chest.
That’s the first word—an untranslatable word—in a language he never knew existed.
Over the next few months, he has this experience a dozen times. It’s not the same word each time, it’s a new word. It comes as an impulse, a sensation.
Now he wants to be in the museum, the prison. He doesn’t want to be anywhere else on Earth.
His solid addiction to reality, to knowing, is cracking like an egg. His most treasured response—I DON’T HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT—is dissolving into the little flame that burns forever in his belly.
He will stay in the museum for many years. He will sit down at an antique piano and play notes and chords that are incomprehensible to the ordinary mind. He will listen to what he is playing and weep.
This weeping will reach down to places inside him that have been waiting for his arrival for a long time.
—Into incalculable grief, out of it, into it again, out of it.
Cleansed of this world, yet still able to be in it.
As he walks from room to room, his step is lighter, more sure. Every moment is familiar and new.
Jon Rappoport
The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at NoMoreFakeNews.com or OutsideTheRealityMachine.
Outside the Reality Machine 
You have a good mind. I dont know why some of us can ‘see’ , perhaps the pinial gland.
well written. Quantum. Vibration , atoms, dimensions. carring less about what others think, i would ask, about your thoughts on the images, in the clouds. MANY here FINNALY opening up to ask. ive been at it for years now.
Its getting harder and harder, for many to keep their heads in the sand. The uncommon, is getting common.