I am in a state of rapture. This Sophia Stewart kerfuffle is utterly gripping. If you don't recognize the name, Sophia Stewart is the would-be creator of both The Matrix and Terminator film franchises, who claims that her original and copyrighted work, The Third Eye, was stolen by James Cameron and The Wachowski Brothers.
Yeah, that's right, I call them Bros. because that is what they are: The Wachowski Brothers. No one can change a man into a woman. It's genetic people! It has nothing to do with a fake vagina crafted by the best surgeon your many billions can buy. Lana Wachoswki is not a woman. Not by a country mile.
I am not being bigoted here. The way I see it, people want what they want and just can't help it. I do not judge but I am able to discern. People want what they want and they just can't help it, but that doesn't mean that it is a good thing when they get it. This idea--that a widely perceived good isn't good at all--is going to be central to my thesis here, as it describes the mechanism of Original Sin, the bestial heart of the Three Abrahamic Traditions.
I must state unequivocally that I do not subscribe to any of these traditions, or any other type of mystical or pseudo-spiritual perspective, period. The nonsense that "in whatever way one worships an idol, God answers" completely ignores the simple meaning of worship. Worship is the acceptance that a) there is a higher power and b) the ultimate belief that higher power is inherently good. These twin principles of worship are fundamental. You can't have one without the other. I do not worship because I know damned well there is a higher power alright, and I recognize that power as a Supreme God, but I don't have one shred of solid evidence that God is good. Some tantalizing clues, yes, but evidence: no.
We must also address the logic that one might change a man into a woman based upon the burgeoning possibility of pediatric hormone therapy or gene therapy. This leads directly and inexorably into the deformed ethics of Transhumanism, Eugenics, Cloning, AI and other Satanic Nazi delights. If one part of you believes, dear reader, that Transhuman Ecumenism could be a good thing, then you have completely failed to recognize the most obvious fact in Human History: Evil Wins. Every time kiddies. In our realm, the power of Evil is utterly Supreme and thus the use of Transhumanism, which entrains human empowerment and future peace, is inevitably used for Evil and not Good. Therefore, whenever and however Transhuman Futurism rears its head, it must be and is completely integrated into an Evil Purpose.
It is useful to look at this phenomena in terms of Golf. The sport of Golf requires vast tracts of valuable, beautiful, and very often fertile land--to provide amusement for the rich. It is completely necessary that these vast tracts of land, and the service to those who can afford to "play the game", must be maintained with the support of people who are slaves. If you don't see this you are blind. Those who consider themselves to be free because of the opportunity to move from one soul crushing McJob to another are not free. These people are zombies--they are mystified. Lincoln did not free the slaves, he gave them a document declaring them free so they could get McJobs and have a one in a trillion shot at becoming Puff-Daddy's body guard or Beyonce's make-up artist. And the land "freed slaves" were "given" wasn't even a reservation because it was taxed. It is impossible to be taxed for something that you actually own. Indian reservations are tax exempt by treaty. The American Indians have been nearly exterminated, they are a decimated people, but they still got a better deal than than the American African Slave. The Indians kept their traditions alive and pure, while the authentic and natural African tradition of the early slaves has been warped beyond recognition into a pornographic shit-show with Jay-Z-Hova at its repugnant crown. They pitch this shit to little kids people. C'mon. The existence of elite Golf courses proves this bit of logic beyond the shadow of a doubt. There is no wiggle room, no gap. It's a scam. Evil is real and Evil is in charge. If this wasn't true, we'd all be golfing. We'd all be golfing, at the best courses too, with the finest lodging and service at our collective whim. It's alot of fun, I am told. So why are we not there, playing together in the Sun, all of us, in Augusta, or Pebble Beach, romping, loving, sucking back Patron and fingering our Swedish nannies in the back room of the 19th hole?
Because Evil Wins.
The anodyne for the energetic power of Evil must be a sort of Messiah or Messianic principle, capable of restoring everything, including the force of Evil, to what I term uni-quality. Uni-quality is the state of a separated consciousness, aware of itself as unique, that is able to joyfully commune with other uni-qualities without frustration, neurosis, or disruptive metamorphosis. This state has never existed, anywhere, at any time, ever. This is why it is called Utopia. Utopia is Greek for Nowhere. Nowhere means Not Here. It isn't here.
Maybe the Messiah will come someday. I don't know. Some say, in the pop-ninny tradition of Joseph Campbell and the rest of the infernal theosophists, that the Messiah will come to restore, only to then leave. And things fall apart and he comes back again, and so on. It's kind of a Once and Future King thingy. This doesn't sound like much of a Messiah to me. In fact, such folderol forces a human being to save themselves, to become their own private Messiah, which exactly corresponds to the New Age freemasonic platform Oprah, Chopra and Wayne Dyer. This is sado-masochistic solipsism, not reality. The nature of the need for salvation predicates that one can not save oneself. You can't pull yourself into orbit by tugging on your shoelaces--not anywhere there is Gravity. These silly claims of travel, by hook or by crook or ritual or rocketship, to other planets, or to astral planes to commune with the spirits, fly and be free--they are total horseshit. Right now, somewhere in India, there is a dying naked wretch breathing pure asbestos in one of the most dangerous environments on Earth, dismantling a derelict freighter for 25 cents an hour because his family is fucking starving to death. That is what is real. His suffering, his blatant and criminal slavery at the hands of the Nazi Golfers from The Future is what's really real. What is this poor devil to do? Save his rupees for a copy of Eat, Pray, Love? Maybe Eckhart Tolle can help him out? Not a chance, Chinaski.
Evil is Winning. Winning is Evil. They are Siamese-twins. Remove one and the other dies--just one heart, you see. You may want to deny it, or to look away, but this type of mutation, which resembles The Siamese Twin, is the proof of my point, and of the eternal, unbreakable teleology of Original Sin and Evil.
Siamese Twins and Elephant Men and the severely mentally challenged are repulsive to many. Really, they are repulsive to most. This reaction isn't hateful--it is the reflexive reaction to a train wreck. It isn't proper to be so malformed, folks get uncomfortable. Oh sure, some of us are quite compassionate, we don't all despise or fear the deformed and the intellectually challenged. But nowhere, no-fucking-where in reality will you find these poor devils in positions of power, popular fame, or even regular ordinary social comfort. I clarify here that I am talking about the most extreme cases. Not Corky the TV star with Downs Syndrome or the conjoined country-singer sisters on TLC after Honey-Boo-Boo Child. I am talking about those so severely retarded they eat their own waste, and couldn't ever tie a shoe or tell time, and/or people so physically hideous or malodorous that being near them is nauseating. These people exist, and they aren't in a goddamm coma either. Their isolation is always present. They can feel pain and they feel it all the time. It is not possible to ethically modalize these people into so-called health. It can not be done. Nor is it possible to disguise them completely.
The Shoe is not a body-modality. When you take off your shoes, your feet are the same as when they went in. Every seven years all of the cells in your foot regenerate. The foot you have today is not the same as it was seven years ago. This fact is proven beautifully by physicians specializing in eye care. After a bad but heal-able eye injury, the patient will feel pain for seven years and then the pain just stops completely. Every eye doctor knows this. So does James Joyce. Your shoe does not regenerate its cells, it does not feel pain. The shoe is not a body-modality, it is a media device. You can heap all of the media you like on to these poor-devils, The Elephant People, The Retarded, the Ugly Mutuant. You can get them the finest pair of shoes that money can buy, and it doesn't help them one fucking bit. Not one bit. They can not modify their pain.
What did they do to deserve it?
By now, good reader mine, you are probably scratching your head. What, you wonder, does any of this have to do with Sophia Stewart? It has everything to do with her.
Miss Stewart's treatment, called The Third Eye, has been widely analyzed on the web.
The main question that revolves around Stewart is the authenticity of her claim against Cameron and the Wachowski Bros. Many find the connection to The Terminator and The Matrix series both obvious and profound. Based upon her 1981 copyright of The Third Eye and legal documentation that the Wachowski Bros. received a copy of this work in response to an add they placed for submissions of sci-fi narrative, this group upholds that there is good evidence of plagiarism. The connection to Cameron can be extrapolated from the very real possibility of a coordinated media conspiracy.
Others, most to be frank, find these parallels tenuous at best. This second, larger group, can see that there are some similarities, but chalk it up to coincidence. The sharpest of this group, who are aware of Jung and Joseph Campbell's mono-myth model and the cycle of "the hero", attribute the connections between these works to the collective knowledge of the mono-myth. They point out that the story has been told repeatedly throughout history and across all cultures. They have a good point here, those who doubt Miss Stewart's tale of woe. All of us who examine these phenomena in depth are apt to strike upon a similar theme now and then.
To bring this into focus, let's examine the main comparisons between The Terminator, The Matrix, and Miss Stewart's The Third Eye. They aren't oblique. In fact they are really quite strong. Remarkably so. They also resemble the narrative of Scientology. As a fan of science fiction, Miss Stewart surely came across Battlefield Earth, for example, and could easily have been influenced by its imagery. Moreover, Miss Stewart could have developed her ideas from contact with Joseph Campbell himself, whose work was really gaining popular momentum in the late '70's.
But there is just one little detail, and it is a stunner. In The Matrix series there is a particular and striking motif. Scenes set inside the Matrix are color added green. The scenes of Zion are color added blue. At the end of the series, after Neo goes to the Machine City, there is no color added. Both Zion and The Matrix are represented with natural color balance. This isn't about costumes or set decorations, although those elements are also incorporated in this same way. The color addition process is a done when the physical film, the negative of the movie, is processed. Three tints. The Matrix: Green. Zion: Blue. The Series Finale: Natural Color. This detail of color progression is also immanent in Stewart's The Third Eye, a fact I discovered not from one of of Stewart's supporters but one of her firm detractors. This guy was blown away by this very subtle and specific connection, and although he believes it proves nothing, he felt ethically obliged to report it.
By and large, I trust the public taste to determine the quality of an aesthetic. If one follows the many modern cultural movements with any regularity, one can discern pretty easily if a specific group of fans is going be delighted by a new project, or whether they just think it sucks. It doesn't matter if one likes or does not like the work oneself, the popular pulse is well represented. The imdb, for example, is egalitarian. If a movie scores an 86%, people like it. If it is only a 50% then not so much. One could argue that these numbers are being tampered with, but this is easily dispelled by listening to the people themselves, on the net, in pubs and buses. Standing at the water cooler, the opinion of real people is remarkably similar to the internet statistic that represents their demographic, and this is especially true in regard to media presentation. Using this model, a survey of Stewart's critics suggest she isn't much of a writer.
Trouble is this color-added thing, this strong and subtle connection between Stewart and those she accuses of theft.
Color Theory is deadly serious. Color Theory is the work of a real artist, and I don't mean your jack-shit local dj or slam poet or folk-singer. I mean Kubrick and Ridley Scott. Bruckheimer and Bay. Cameron and Wachowski Bros.. Ad Men. Powerful Men. High brow or low brow, these people mean business. Their influence on the social order is fucking mountainous. It casts a shadow on the World. They are and have been shaping your consciousness since you were in the womb and you don't even know it. Color Theory is a difficult and precise practice. It is ancient and codified. It has the power to radically change the way we see the World. It demands precision. Without regard to the aesthetic assessment of Miss Stewart's work, she is clearly adorned with a very precise knowledge of a particular aspect of color theory which is also used as a semi-liminal mind-fuck in one of the most successful media events in history. Add to this her complete mastery of the subtleties of the mono-myth and we find an intriguing problem that must be addressed.
Miss Stewart has been called "a liar", and, in general, crazy, lonely--scratching pathetically for some small piece of fame and respect for her work, which she describes as once in a generation. It is not a pretty picture, but is it accurate. People hate to give up their heroes, even smart people. The fanboys rally around the Wachowski Bros., fawning over their innate genius, and are quite willing to imply that Miss Stewart is mentally ill. Sounds alot like to what happened to Phillip K. Dick, another marginal, whose work has been raped, pillaged and twisted into lies by many, many a Hollywood Block Buster. When Dick publicly told the truth, a legitimate and difficult truth, nobody believed him--but it was out there in the ether and something had to be done. This is why his loopy, self-referential and reportedly unfilmable fiction has made him one of the most frequent authors to be presented in dramatic media, rivaled only by Conan Doyle, Ian Fleming and Stephen King. Dick had to be made massive, not in the obscurity of his life's work, but at the exact moment in history he revealed his truth--because his message was too dangerous to ignore. It had to be warped. It had to be managed and weaponized against itself.
Or am I wrong? We will see in a moment.
Another critique of Stewart's position is her expansive account of her talent, connections, and influence. It doesn't seem likely that she is really as in with the in-crowd of politics and power as she claims. If it were true, why would she have to sue the Wachowski Bros.?
When someone steals another's ideas, it is humiliating. It hurts. It demeans an important contribution. If Miss Stewart is correct in her claim that her work was indeed ripped-off, it is completely natural and common for her to exaggerate her status in an act of self-protection. To be misused in the manner of her charge is an assault. It hurts. It can and has destroyed lives. More will be destroyed in the same way. It is called business. Eminent Domain. Miss Stewart's work is copyrighted and the fact the Wachowski's received it is a documented legal fact. It seems obvious that she has not nor will she receive any money, regardless of any judgement in her favor. These big judgments against the rich and powerful are never actually paid. They represent a kind of kangaroo court, in which the guilty party is chastized with a hollow economic penalty, which is then dragged through appeal after appeal until the injured party is broken on the wheel. The position and power held by the guilty is not altered or weakened in the slightest. These overlords have invented the principles of social revolution and transcendental metamorphosis as a false front, a form of entertainment, to keep the little people at work, turning the Satanic Mill for the pleasure and comfort of the Nazi Golfers from The Future. They never pay a cent, and get away with real murder and slavery every day. It is right in front of your eyes--if they are open.
This brings me to the lynch pin of my thesis.
Miss Stewart, in a statement mocked by her naysayers, is planning to create The Matrix 4. Her website calls her, in no uncertain terms, the creator of The Matrix series and The Terminator series. Her actual term of choice is Mother of the Matrix, which, if it is true, demands that she is at least one-half owner of the property in question. If it is true, she should be very fucking rich.
What is important here is the concept of branding. The Matrix, The Terminator, these are branded franchises, brands that have generated enormous wealth, freedom and influence to their owners. James Cameron didn't get to journey to the bottom of the ocean because he is a great scientist, but because he is filthy, bloody rich. If you have been paying any attention you ought to know that these brands are absolute. Brand owners do not lease or allow use of their brands. Ever. Never fucking ever. Instead, they ruthlessly pursue piracy and copyright infringement against even the smallest offense. They will crush without mercy those who misuse or misappropriate their brand. Little people have been driven to suicide, sent to the poor-house, and imprisoned for decades for such infringements of brand. It is the story of business. And yet, at Miss Stewart's site, she comfortably proclaims herself to be at least the rightful half-owner of two of the greatest media brands of all time.
It shouldn't be happening, but it is. Her prominent use of branded property along with her claim that she is an equal co-creator is egregiously in your face. It begs a pressing question. The argument that she is merely being politely ignored is absurd. She ought to have been ordered to desist. Instead, and without regard to whether or not she is ever paid-out, she won her judgment. She can call her next work The Matrix 4 with impunity if she likes, and legally collect any revenue.
This leads at last to one of two firm conclusions. Logic simply demands that this phenomena be explained by only one of two fixed axioms.
1. That the entire affair of Sophia Stewart is a psy-op. A mock-up in which Miss Stewart, Joel Silver, Cameron, Wachowski Bros. and court offices conspire together, on a need to know basis, of course. Why would such an exercise be implemented? Marketing. It's all about the blood money. The elite Nazi Golf courses do not take regular cash. All of their currency is soaked in the blood of slavery.
2. Sophia Stewart is telling the truth. She is the Mother of the Matrix--the legitimate Oracle, and just as portrayed in the films themselves, she is isolated and a little weird. But, she is right: there is no spoon. Media lies. Shoes lie. Flatter than pancake, right there on the floor of your hall closet. The body does not lie. There is unimaginable suffering and it goes on and on and on. Look away if you want--pretend it isn't real. Believe in the myth of your heroes, your winners, your masters.
Surely, these two choices, these final choices in the conundrum of Sophia Stewart--they mean exactly the same thing. We are fucked--good and fucked. We live in a reality that is clearly and absolutely bound by a principle of suffering, torment and servitude that serves the orgiastic passions of Nazi Golfers from the Future. Just say they don't exist. Ignore them or admire them--choose not to see.
Art is a parlor trick. It is a method of fleecing rubes of their will. The future is a Satanic Deception. An elite class of Evil Scumbags, somewhere, somehow, some time, managed to make rubes of us all--to ensure our servitude in the ever widening net of pristine Golf golf courses that will one day cover every inch of our beautiful and savage Earth. And when they can automate it, they are gonna kill everyone. When you look around the table, if you don't know who the sucker is, then you are the sucker. I have seen the sucker and it is us.
James Joyce new this stuff as plain as day, I think. PKD sure as hell did. These men were not artists. They labored in poverty, madness, blindness and obscurity. And they were naturally bitter. It hurts to know the awful truth and not be able to share it. But some give it the old college try. They are never thanked, generally despised, always misunderstood, and finally their effort to tell the truth is co-opted into the maintenance of a theosophical false promise.
Maybe, just maybe mind you, Sophia Stewart knows these same truths--truths which are, in essence, the opposite of Art and Ad the bloody, transparently Evil mad-money machine they have designed to build their Golfers paradise. Maybe she should be rich and powerful--maybe she is. Maybe she is out there, on the links with the Wachowski Bros. and the fucking Huffingtons, dressed to the nines in the warm spring sun, laughing her fucking head off. But I seriously doubt it.
Sophia Stewart is black.