The Circus

~a story story~

by Jon Rappoport

November 23, 2015

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, The Matrix Revealed, click here.)

On a cold winter night, John Q walked out beyond the lights of city because he was in a dither about something he couldn’t identify, and he passed through a street of small buildings, each of which advertised, in neon, a traditional revered Asian philosophy; moving on, Q came to a series of booths and stands, badly lit, which he assumed composed a kind of circus, and he walked up to one of these booths, where an old man emerged out of the gloom saying, “You see, Q, each booth holds a different space and time, and once these booths and their inhabitants had no idea the others existed, but slowly they grew aware and began to cross over and establish communication, and finally they decided to travel together, not as one, but as islands, so that occasional visitors who spotted them could partake of their offerings, which, when you stop and think about it, have nothing to do with products or services, but instead present themselves as various realms, you see, and by entering one and sensing what it is, you discover what you’re hoping for; spring, where the renewal and the blooming are always…you don’t have to wonder where the psyche and the soul of things have disappeared to…they’re immediately here, and that’s the vital element, you’ve arrived in a place you’ve always wanted to be, and the place knows it and does its part to reach out and meet you halfway…”

Q said, “What do I do now?”

The old man said, “Just walk around the table and come in.”

So Q did.

The old man clasped his hand. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll only see a problem if you decide you don’t want to be here.”

Q said, “What do I do then?”

“Go to another booth. And another. Eventually, you’ll settle into one, or you won’t. It doesn’t make any difference.”

“Why not?”

“You want to feel more alive, don’t you?” the old man said. “That’s not something you can argue about. That’s why you’re here. It’s your guide. Unless you change your mind.”

Q stood in the cold night. He felt green maple trees and an open field and then he was there, and someone was walking toward him from a distance. He didn’t know who it was, but it was someone who lived here or had just appeared spontaneously without explanation.

“They’re always new,” Q said, remembering people in his dreams, but this wasn’t a dream, it was a visit, and he realized he might never go back to the place he’d come from.

Where was that?

It was a faded city. Its shapes were orderly and calm. The whole area had been planned out. For what purpose? He couldn’t remember.

The figure came closer. He was a short man wearing a rumpled suit. His beard was ragged. “Welcome to outer space,” he said.

“This is outer space?” Q said.

“Did you expect me to arrive in a rocket ship?” the man said. “I guess I should have worn a diplomat’s uniform, walked along a red carpet between rows of soldiers.”

“No, no,” that’s all right,” Q said. “I’m happy to be here. Who are you?”

“What people used to call a greeter. I wasn’t busy, so I came out to meet you.”

“What happens now?” Q said.

The man shrugged. “Hard to say. There are no rules. Do you want a banquet, a party, a celebration? How about taking a walk all the way out to the edge of this place?”

“There’s an edge?”

“Maybe. I haven’t found one yet. Things tend to blur a bit, the farther you go.”

“Maybe I’ll just stand here for a while,” Q said.

“That’s good.”

So the two men stood quietly. Birds flew overhead. A rusty machine appeared to Q’s left.

“What’s that?” Q said.

The man said, “It produces reality. Slowly. If we stand here long enough, it’ll make a city, and lots of people. Streets, cars, noise.”

“And?”

The man shrugged. “And that’s all. Then you can walk around in the city if you want to. You can become an inhabitant. You’ll have an apartment or a house, and a job. But more importantly, you’ll have feelings that fit in with the city.”

“That sounds strange,” Q said. “Feelings that fit in.”

“Well, you’ll need them. Otherwise you’ll be an outsider.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Q said.

“Nothing,” the man said. “What I mean is, the longer you stay there, the more you’ll feel a part of it. And then you might forget you’re a visitor.”

“And suppose I stay here, in this field? Will I forget?”

“I doubt it,” the man said. “Unexpected things happen here. You’ll maintain your sense of… now. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Yes,” Q said, without thinking.

The two men stood in the field for a while longer. Q began to fidget.

“What’s wrong?” the man said.

“I don’t know,” Q said. “I guess I’m a little nervous. Something bad might happen.”

“Do you want something bad to happen?” the man said.

“No,” Q said.

“Then stop worrying.”

The rusty machine began whirring. Q could see a few wheels turning. He looked down and realized he had a sledgehammer in his hands. He looked at the greeter, who nodded. Q swung the sledgehammer and smashed the side of the machine. He swung another blow, and another. The whirring noise stopped. The wheels stopped turning.

“Did I just keep the machine from creating a city?” Q said.

“Of course,” the greeter said.

“What about all the people who would have been living in the city?”

“Look,” the greeter said, “here’s how it works. There are always new places coming into being, and some of them are stopped. Destroyed. Then there are other places that have been around for a long time, and they end. Then you have new places that spring up and they come to fruition.”

“Cities?” Q said.

“Cities, islands, worlds, universes, whatever you want to call them.”

Q thought about that for a long time. It seemed to him he was remembering thousands of such places, all in a jumble.

“What about me?” Q finally said.

---

---

The greeter shook his head. “You never end,” he said, “unless you want to. Even then, it would be an iffy proposition. You might go to sleep for a long time, but as far as I can tell, you’d eventually wake up. You’re at the center of this place. You don’t feel that way now, but if you stay here long enough, you will. If you like that, you’ll stay. If you don’t, you’ll go somewhere else. Get it?”

“I’m not sure,” Q said. “Maybe.”

He began walking. The greeter stayed where he was.

“Are you coming?” Q said.

“No,” the greeter said, “you go ahead. I might see you later.”

Q nodded and kept walking.

The place was large. The day was long.

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 29^th 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 NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.