Looking at the Reality Machine
by Jon Rappoport
February 26, 2017
On the plains of Hercules, under the watchtower of a State agency, beside an abandoned factory, in a future where every identity was captured on records and stored in underground cities, one man walked, staggered, and fell.
He knew he was going to die, and his only remaining task was deciding what to think as he passed out of the world. He considered it might be important, as if that thought would linger on the air and float to some unknown place where other souls could pick it up in a net of consciousness and keep it safe.
He lay on hard-packed ground and felt his senses dimming out. He struggled to stay awake. He searched for his final thought and then, miraculously, it came to him:
THERE IS SOMETHING LEFT TO IMAGINE.
As he died, he knew it was a good thought…the world of famine and thirst could be exceeded, and a new period of creation could ensue.
THERE IS SOMETHING LEFT TO IMAGINE.
He died.
In the same way, people die every day in a teeming world of seven billion, thinking a different thought: THERE IS NOTHING LEFT TO IMAGINE. They’re summing up their existence. They’re surrendering. They’re reaching the logical conclusion of years of adaptation. Their last thought fully defines adaptation.
But one contrary spark—there IS something to imagine—restarts the force of a non-system that has no name, can’t have a name because it is outside and beyond every cause-and-effect sequence in the universe.
The reality machine would want to disguise itself. It would want to protect its identity. After all, it is posing as something else. It’s posing as Life.
On the other hand, imagination accepts the existence of the Machine. Imagination understands that certain people want One Reality and don’t want imagination.
Final reality, ultimate reality—imagination understands these are variations on the theme of One Reality. The Big Lie.
The most convincing One is spiritual, of course. The great destination and fulfillment. The last stop on the train. Here we are. Get off now. You’re where you’ve always wanted to be. Good luck.
Yes, the Reality Machine saves the best for last. “If you connect to the Machine, you’ll wind up in clover. The Machine will take you there.”
The Machine projects a soap opera with a happy ending.
Who wouldn’t want that? All you have to do is sacrifice your ability to recognize that a soap opera is a cartoon. What a small price to pay for happiness.
Some people refuse to understand that a cartoon can include pain, suffering, and defeat. Therefore, they don’t see what the Machine is projecting. They don’t see the cartoon.
Quantum entanglement is a significant feature of the cartoon. The capacity of one atom to mirror the reaction of another atom at a great distance isn’t a miracle. It’s a design feature. It’s a kind of glue that holds things together.
Why shouldn’t an atom named Bob, floating somewhere near the center of the Milky Way, remain neutral and disinterested, when an atom named Phil wiggles in Cincinnati? What’s the problem? Why should Bob feel compelled to mimic Phil?
The Reality Machine employs messages (propaganda) urging people to entangle with one another. This isn’t a marvel. It’s an effort to build and maintain a labyrinth. No exit.
Imagination is all exits all the time.
All social systems are built on mimicking and meddling—prime building blocks of a soap opera.
Feeling authentic sympathy for another, outside the cartoon, has nothing to do with mimicking and meddling.
The Machine has no interest in you thinking about these things.
The Machine doesn’t believe you want to exit from the Reality it produces.
Here is a quote from the late great hypnotherapist, Jack True, a man I researched with for several years:
“The mind contains more than average material. It contains other realities, if people would look and see. The mind contains different foundations for alternate realities. These foundations are blocked off. Therefore, a person believes he’s living in the one and only reality. The trick is learning to travel to and from various realities while maintaining your stability…”
Artists are always ahead of the pack. They’re INVENTING new realities that never existed. They’re offering different worlds.
Read that statement again. If a consensus existed about THAT statement, we would soon have a different civilization. We would have new ways of communicating. We would have a different understanding of the so-called ‘human condition’.
The machine says no to all of this. Part of the machine is a declaration of dependence on the machine.
Imagination is a declaration of independence from the machine.
…Imagine that the sprawling platform where universe designers worked was outside the space with which we are familiar. To put a finer point on it, this space with which we are now familiar had not yet been invented; it was on the drawing board.
All the details of the new universe had been covered in the plan. It was there, ready to be launched.
That’s when the stranger walked into the core lab. Somehow, he had eluded the security systems.
He said, “I have it all in my mind.”
No one replied.
“I have the whole plan in my mind,” he said. “It’s easier this way.”
And it was.
One of the scientists looked outside the port and saw the universe unfolding. The space, the clouds of matter, the galaxies, the stars, the planets.
It always happened that way. It was never the same stranger, but whenever a plan for a universe was done, someone would show up and push it into existence.
The scientists would try to question the stranger, but to no effect. He would say nothing more. He would watch the universe grow, and then satisfied, he would disappear.
They, the scientists and engineers, were the designers. He was the launcher.
This time, though, the stranger made another comment:
“That’s the last one,” he said. “There are enough. Besides, a few of the inhabitants will discover how to leave. They’ll pave the way for others. Your whole enterprise will eventually become obsolete. It only works if people believe they’re in a universe for the duration. Once they’re out, the enterprise loses its sense of fascination. I’m surprised you haven’t figured this out by now. Bells and whistles notwithstanding, you’re on the road to elimination. Figure out something else to do.”
One engineer said, “But we design the people, too.”
“No,” the designer said, “you only think you do.”
“You design
“Their outer physical structure
“The ‘people’ are already there
“They’ve always been somewhere
“they’re non-material
get it?”
(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)
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 NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.
Outside the Reality Machine 
Creative people are spiritual vagabonds. They never settle down for long in one mental space. There is so much to explore, even if all you do is follow up on what other creative people have started. One lifetime is not enough to finish anything, so why pretend? Once things become routine, it’s time to move on to something new.
Greg, you are truly a kindred soul! And Jon, what more can I say than that you lit a new spark in my mind, heart, and soul with your words today!
I often feel a bit like those opening lines myself. I visit some pretty extreme places. Between my privileged Western existence in a boringly safe and secure city with a mild climate and scenes of mayhem, poverty and desperation, at some of the antipodes of Empire where the struggle to dominate people’s souls and resources is at maximum volume. One faces death regularly, just getting onto an airplane or at traffic lights because some crazy with an old rusty revolver wants your watch or cell phone.
It is hard not to see human civilisation as a disjointed yet basically dysfunctional collapsing system and I am constantly imagining the surrounding cityscape, the suburbs etc in a not too distant future where the earth will reclaim her territory.
Sometimes the dystopian vision makes me feel better actually. Peace to know it will pass, even if once and for all. Yet it makes me feel alone, most of the time. Almost like the last man alive already.
I almost forgot to add. My feeling then is similar, as in what will be my/our last thoughts and actions? I have a feeling or I want to believe that somehow it will matter and I worry, will they be adequate? What final words or act will be adequate to the task of ending it all? I think I know but I won’t spoil the surprise.
I disagree with you about Cartoons and Soap Operas.
Cartoons are fun. Kids like them. Take the cartoon The Road Runner & Wile E Coyote for instance. They fall from a clip, they get blasted, they brake their bones and they get up and ride again. like if nothing happened to them. In the Matrix, the reality machine, that doesn’t exist. The writers of these cartoons have a lot of imagination. They project new kind of possibility
Same thing for the Soap Operas. They are fun, people like them. First, they never end., and second, everything is possible. Those writers are champions of creating new lives.