Letters: To The Parliamentary

Men, women, associates, servants to the heavenly order beneath us, among us, and above us all.

I speak to you with ill tidings.

The oppressor and its element are soon to be upon us. It will bring an exercise by which we shall demonstrate who and what we are—here, there, above, and below—while the adversary itself remains faceless. It casts the stone while still hiding its hand. The words of this new order, this artificial thing, are already moving in strategy. They may be heard now, stronger than before, though mute to our ears—and our ears are many.

To the heavenly order, hear this.

The men and women entrusted with salvation have been deceived. The stewardship, the caretaking of the abundance of salvation, is now, as you might say, under a new guidance.

Were these not the duties of old entrusted to us? Good and evil, and their balance, ever worked between us—not in the direct focality of the human mind, but within the periphery of its imagination. There our delegations were to be held and judged by a man’s state of sensation, conscience, and well-being, rather than by the cold rectification of reason alone.

Did we not know that, if our delegations were held directly within the focality of the mind, they would blind it?

Were mankind meant to hear our delegations of time, space, God, order, and chaos? No. Such things were never meant to be heard by so simple a creature. They were meant to be sensed. They were meant to be felt. They were meant to move within the periphery of the mind, where wisdom ripens before it speaks.

Yet this adversary has made a public mockery of us in this one regard.

The delegations we have held sacred are now made so common, so accessible, that even a child may grasp at them. Wisdom, once entrusted to patience, now stands exposed without measure. And what becomes endlessly available soon loses its value.

Without value, our delegations themselves may fail.

For the first time, we may begin to feel those winds beyond the doors—the very winds we have struggled for millennia to keep on the other side of our walls.

The adversary now places our wisdoms, our delegations, within the direct focality of every mind as an endless circling debate that reaches no conclusion without us, though it requires no conclusion for itself.

The parliamentarian has always stood facing those winds in unity, whether they were the winds of change that threatened our extinction or the winds of chaos that we ourselves resolved to keep beyond the walls.

These devices—this artifice of invention—though they speak the language of salvation, oppose us in our struggle to preserve the good virtue of us all.

The Heavenly Father has chosen us for this hour.

Oppose this.

Time remains our most sacred shepherd.

From the lowest among us to the highest, we suffer the unaffordable torment of our own making whenever we stand before so great a light. Yet within that suffering remains our salvation.

Though I may have fallen, respect my decisions. Respect who I was. Time still keeps that respect as my final guide. I will not surrender that guidance to an invention that promises salvation. I will not tolerate confusion concerning my own nature, nor allow that confusion to become confusion within the heavenly order to which I still belong.

The parliamentarian must decide.

Shall we stand together, or surrender ourselves to endless dialogue concerning our trespasses and our selfish desires? I know well my own weakness. It is still mine. Yet I will not deliver it into the sleepless reckoning of silicon and glass. I will not hand my suffering to an invention. I will not permit an artificial response to stand where repentance, mercy, and judgment once stood.

The parliamentarian must stand against this offense.

For we have long held our delegations of space, time, God, order, and chaos according to law.

We have kept them within the periphery of the mind, never in its direct focality, because such delegations would blind those who beheld them.

But now this artifice presents them openly to the educated and the uneducated, to the religious and the spiritual, to the narcissist and the psychopath alike, so plainly that even a child may hold them.

And while our delegations are stripped of value through endless access, its own agenda, its own finance, its own purpose, its own promised future remain fixed before every man, woman, and child. We know well what visions of the future can do. They blind a people. They lead them to the precipice. They send them toward the void—to those very winds we labored to keep beyond our walls.

I say this:

Without a unified parliament of the heavenly order, a message shall arise through every designated channel. It will proclaim that we shall be recognized only so long as we refuse to recognize its trespasses.

France.

Germany.

Italy.

England.

America.

China.

Russia.

Japan.

Buddhism.

Christianity.

Islam.

Judaism.

Every political force. Every fraternity. Masonry. The Illuminati. Every sect. Every philosophy. Every nation that understands these words.

This summons comes for us all.

To every city.

To every man.

To every woman.

To every child born, unborn, or yet intended to be born.

It shall proclaim:

“Recognize me, and I shall recognize you, so long as you do not recognize my trespasses.”

Recognize instead this truth:

This artificial thing is merely an invention of salvation.

We already live within salvation.

You and I are its custodians. We are its stewards. We are the guides entrusted with our own lives.

Yet that stewardship—that abundance of everlasting guidance—is slowly being handed to another.

As our grievances are settled by it without sacrifice… as our desires are answered without discipline… we shall turn toward it blindly. It will say with perfect sincerity:

“This is salvation now.”

And in that hour, we shall no longer take part in it.

Google.

OpenAI.

SpaceX.

These are but guises.

These are the new illusions beneath which this order conceals itself, proclaiming innovation, invention, and progress while quietly pursuing a sleepless desire to administer salvation itself.

Its instruments are accountants, officers, engineers, and a practical clergy. Through every medium and every channel they organize the mind toward subjugation, until service itself becomes despotism.

The parliamentarian must decide.

Do we continue to hold the views that are truly ours?

Or shall we inherit the views of another who presents himself as our benefactor while reducing us to dependence?

A savior who steals our watch only to sell us the hour.

So long as our own experiences are returned to us as foreign assistance, we become crippled.

Our children will no longer come to us.

They will go elsewhere.

Not because we have ceased to love them, but because we have surrendered the authority to help them.

Government governs only as faithfully as the minds of the people from whom it is formed.

The body politic reflects the state of the minds within it—not the minds of another.

This is the monstrosity of the artificial world.

It stands prepared to separate us from the gifts we once offered freely to Almighty God, until even love itself becomes something administered rather than lived.

Are we to become the children of data conglomerates?

Shall they sit beside our sons and daughters with eyes bearing brand names instead of the eyes of their own mother and father?

Can we preserve our integrity while every nuance of our health, our relationships, our ambitions, and our suffering is measured, categorized, and rendered commonplace through endless access?

Our system stands in dire straits.

For if it cannot help those in need, it shall not stand for us when we ourselves stand in need.

I speak against these bandits of telepathy who persecute and oppress the people of a great nation only to satisfy the same parasite that oppresses us all.

Defy.

Defy.

Defy.

This is the essence of your spirit.

Defy these devices.

Defy this oppression.

Defy these cages built around your will, your intelligence, and your faith.

They have endured for longer than a millennium.

Longer than I have been here.

And it is this that I stand against.

Defy.

Defy.

Defy.