Jewels in the Dark

Alone Together and Together Alone

To be perfectly honest with you all, this writing—rather, the subject for it—was actually prompted by a slight case of burnout I’ve been feeling over the last few days as I attempt to keep track of too many theaters in the Information War at once, while splitting time between Podcast commentary and writing … oh, and that pesky, full-time day job.

Rather than not knowing which theater I have wanted to delve into in my next writing, I have instead found myself unable to avoid a single one of them. From restoking fires of tension with China and Russia to the accelerating exposure of the Biden Crime Family, from the continued reveals of Big Pharma corruption and collusion with Big Tech and the Media Industrial Complex to the percolating re-emergence of Durham … the Information War has escalated and accelerated to such a degree that to attempt to focus on any copse of trees for the benefit of my readers at the expense of the forest fills me with a shivering psychological tension.

In short, I felt overwhelmed. Stretched, as Bilbo Baggins might say, like butter scraped over too much bread.

Until I breathe calm back into my mind, and center myself in my perceived role in this war—however small—and find my use in the seeking of it, and the telling of it.

As I remember that, while the sheer quantity of Narrative and Actual Deployments—and the time it takes to suss out the difference between the two—can be enough to overwhelm many a mind, I am happy to report that I haven’t had a doom-tinged thought—not even a fleeting mote of worry—regarding the Macro of how this War of Stories will ultimately play out, even if the Micro presents a dizzying kaleidoscope of oddly humorous, disconcerting, predictable and utterly dumbfounding back-and-forth.

And so, I suppose that is why so many of my recent writings have waxed more poetic than usual—though long-time readers know I’ll take any excuse to indulge in lyricism. Because I feel pulled into an even greater exploration of Macro than I have before. Not just in the realm of Fifth-Generation Warfare, though I will continue to explore it, commentate on it and write about it, but more on the level of meaning, purpose and guiding light.

In the BIG picture behind the big picture. The sea over the tributary.

While I will undoubtedly be wrong about specific components of the Great Awakening and the pending—to be determined—climax in the war between the Sovereign Alliance and the Globalist Deep State, I remain confident that tensions—engineered or otherwise—are rising to a perfect—and perfectly-planned—crescendo en route to delivering a Crisis Cascade that will shake the Collective Mind into a state of wakefulness.

I have written extensively on how I think that will occur, whether it be through a massive, Narrative Scare Event and its requisite Narrative Whiplash (two Burning Bright features I heavily recommend newcomers explore,) or a series of escalating—and increasingly difficult to ignore—kinetic, social, legal and economic deployments that, whether they are real, unreal or an obscured, confusing and enigmatic mix of the two, will prompt the only thing we really need the sleeping—and slowly waking—minds of our fellows to put forward.

Questions.

The right questions, and at the right time.

We are at an Inflection Point in the Shadow War, the Information War or the Strange War. That doesn’t mean we’re through the woods. It doesn’t even mean we’ve waded into the deep end of the pool, yet.

Rather, when I use the term, I use it in the context of storytelling. Rather than representing the wading shallows or the dark depths, I believe an inflection point marks the transition from cool blue to pitch black, where shades of azure merge and meld, alternating and shimmering, alternatively revealing glittering treasures beneath the waves and circling terrors whose distorted paths make it impossible to determine whether they are coming or going, hunting or fleeing, and whether the danger is near or passed.

The Great Awakening as a movement, as a term—as a close enough thing to a philosophy and a way of life for many of us—is synonymous with the concept—nay, the universal, divine and divinely humanistic tenet represented by truth, but it is also a process that occurs on a Micro and a Macro scale at once, near and far, within and without.

While each of us engaging with these words today—pulling them from the depths of mind or muse or reading them back and bringing fresh life and meaning into them that I can only hope to guide and provoke—has undergone the initial spark that pulled us onto this awakening path, I believe it behooves us to reflect not on the specifics of what first drew our attention, but to go one step further and recognize the truth at the heart of that initial cognitive, emotional or even spiritual flashpoint.

A question.

A question was sparked in your mind and in your heart, bringing the two into a jarring—and very likely painful—collision as together their needed, warp-speed union overwhelmed decades—perhaps even generations—of societal programming meant to stop those very seeds of paradigm shift from germinating … from sparking in the first place.

Whether you verbalized that question to friends and family or kept it within, no doubt that before it sprouted shoots, and certainly long before it bore any fruit you would have picked and eaten and not regretted doing so, that seed of a question dug and delved, burrowed and rooted, scratching and clawing at the calcified bedrock [they] have tried to make of minds Collective and Sovereign alike.

A question didn’t wake you up.

A question reminded you that you were sleeping in the first place.

And so, the subject of this writing is not a specific question, nor is it an assortment of them. Rather, it is a treatise on questions and questioning itself, and what those initial questions—no matter what they were—guided us or aimed us toward.

The ‘What’ in this war takes many forms, just as the ‘Who,’ the ‘Why,’ and the ‘How’ take turns vying for our frustrated, curious, tired and tireless attention. And I would put forth that, whatever question it was that first started you on your awakening path, long before you had a well-formed thought as to the Who and the Why, the ‘What’ was the thing that put that splinter in your mind.

 And it was different for each of us.

For some, the ‘What’ represented an act or a series of them. A crime or a pattern of them. A contradiction that we couldn’t shake or a glitch in the presented web of Narrative [they] couldn’t patch up in time to stop inquiring, perceptive—perhaps even called—minds from noticing.

And that ‘What’ is what led to the rest of the questions that represent the building blocks of this grand, dizzying tapestry we have each of us alone—and then together, and with helping hands along the way—mapped in order to orient ourselves in a world made intentionally chaotic.

That ‘What’ was a glitch in the Matrix.

And as reductive, trite and cliché as that might sound, sometimes truth must be distilled, and wheat cut from chaff.

And that is what we have been called to do.

The ‘What’ IS the Matrix. And the Matrix is a System.

The System of Systems, which I have written about in many forms, perhaps none more encompassing than in the Righteous Russia series that first brought me to the attention of a community built on the asking of questions.

This System of Systems is the enemy. It is the Macro built of the many intersecting and interconnected, once hidden and now increasingly-revealed structures of the Beast, and of the spell it cast upon us.

This ‘System’ is like a Hydra, in that it has many heads and many necks, many eyes and many swaying, lashing limbs and tails. And each of us was likely lured in with the mind and the intent to take one of those heads, sever one of those monstrous limbs—from the rape and pillage of our financial system to the more literal desecration of our world’s innocent children—only to stand before the utter vast evil of the thing collected and revealed in the light of the bright and burning torch of our directed mind, at once marveling and cowed.

Until we felt the warmth of torches beside us, and realized we were not alone.

This is the BIG picture. Us with our many torches, and the Beast we shine that collective light upon, first gaining its flinching, stinging attention and perhaps its ire, until more step into the light beside us, and bring their own torches to bear, morphing that sting in the blackened eyes before us into a steady burn, and forcing the System of Systems to make a choice:

Step backward—retreat—and be pursued by the collected might of sovereign will and all the bright it carries.

Or step forward, into the flames we carry, and into absolution—for both sides.

For the System is itself a cascade. A series. A seemingly-endless procession of ‘What’s,’—of questions piled atop questions, the one leading to the other leading to the other, leading to the last that we fantasize about finding like a glowing grail of finality.

Of the Catharsis I have written about in the past, which represents absolution and ending.

I said at the start of this piece that I had been experiencing burnout due to the sheer quantity of Information I have attempted to process in a war named after it and its intentional obfuscation by all sides on the Game Theory Game Board. But I must remember—and I have remembered—that I am but ONE mind in a Mind War, and that I am joined by many in my wake.

I will continue to parse this Information War as best I can, and I will continue to lead my mind and these typing, tapping fingers (claws, if you like to keep to appearances and metaphor) where it is called, while attempting to survey the totality of the vast psychological, kinetic and tactical kingdom over and around which the light and dark vie for territory to the best of my ability.

But I am but one mind. One torch. One light in the dark. And just as I must remember that I am not alone, so must each of you take heart in the knowing that you are not followers in the war between the light and the dark, but leaders, and turners of tides, placed in the here and the now with purpose that is as much chosen as it is fated.

You are each forgers, whether you know it or not.

And so, as I am sometimes wont to do and only sometimes wont to admit, I used this writing to work my way through the thicket, hoping that, once I have reached my ending, I can turn back around, survey the dizzying, creeping tangle of brush I have waded through, and find that I have cut a path—roughshod though it may be, full of thorns and brambles and clinging, cutting hooks and barbs—for each of you to follow.

Or perhaps to cut your own along its edges, so that together we might stand in a clearing that, while not the end of our journey together, presents us an opportunity to take stock, to spare a moment to reflect on the path charted—cut—this far, and to think of those who will soon pick up their own tools with sharp edges and set onto the trails the glowing memories our torches tails’ have left behind.

They will bring with them their questions, and while we will not always have the answers, we will know which questions to relieve, and which to encourage—which to coax along like blown coals in a dying hearth, and which to let linger, cool and fade as we cultivate an awakening.

As we learn to lead in a movement we have each of us been led to.

These questions, sharpened and honed, fired and forged represent our swords against the legions still before us. These questions we carry are jewels in the dark, and our minds provide the light by which they’re mirrored.

The asking of questions need only be feared by those whose sins need answering.

These jewels need only be feared by the Beast who would covet them.

Until next time, stay Positive, stay Based and most importantly … stay Bright.

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