Any seasoned word weaver worth a grain of salt will see the common weave of these illusions. But it's like teaching a person who has no clue about color, texture, patterns, tension, tools, etc how an elaborate tapestry was woven together to create the richly detailed visual and tactile effects before them. I am actually more sickened by that gaming/entertainment software company shitting on the sacred term Prymal Fyre than this little debacle. But, yes, another repeat of a repeat is annoying too.
Folk have been conditioned for generations to not retain data longer than a 10-second time span, unable to focus on one thing long enough to be effective, much less how to effectively correlate layers of information to connect a larger pattern.
They have also been stimulated with sustained limbic signals for so long that "race to the brain stem" programming is almost fully operational now.
Bio is completely compromised, though we are now beginning to see some amazing adaptive mutations surfacing.
Psyche has been completely compromised and most have no clue what is rational and what is psychotic, in fact, more are completely buying into the total inversion the psychotic is the real substrate. We see that with the Q programming seeping into all other versions and program prototypes now.
The Soul Container is little more than Swiss Cheese for most.
And Spirit has been pushed so far back into the Shadows very little of a functioning trust between Spirit and the bio/psyche/soul container complex remains. They are all fighting for the steering wheel while the true ghost in the machine simply awaits the ejector seat function. Watching the frenzied temper tantrums of two-year-olds armed with tiny flames they managed to find somewhere, with warped entitlement and stunted development blaming everyone and everything else except themselves. Hell bent on burning down the entire house just so their screams can be heard.
Those who have managed to cobble things back together individually, not to mention the ones with strong Prymal Essence, are quickly identified, isolated, and targeting. Just like the hunters of old, Fire Blood hunting Fyre Blood, Vampire lines hunting Vampyre lines, throughout all rewrites of the same narrative formula by the tricksy Demiurge/Wetiko. All versions of Dooms Day, Light/Dark Warring, and Prophecy false narratives converging into the Perfect Storm event horizon. Programmed radicals and extremists intent on proving some false prophecy idea planted long ago will bring them salvation, rapture, harvest, and on and on. "Nobody's right if everybody's wrong..." (Buffalo Springfield, 1967). Way too simple of a concept when people can't pull themselves out of their own limbic system brain stem long enough to see the amazing potentials also swirling around in that chaos. And would rather be led and herded, screaming equality and freedom as the nooses tighten ever more. As they shred one another in their scramble for a dominance illusion.
And here we sit. Front row seats, eating popcorn, and placing bets on how the shit show is going to run its course. With the only tangible thing left is to protect Prymal from reinfection with all the hard work of isolating, unbinding, mitosis drift, Wild Hunt, and gate opening behind us. Being accused of being pedophiles, human traffickers, Satanists, Luciferian, demons, and all other childish name calling jabs that they can parrot out. Give them enough rope, and well, you know the rest.
Transhumanism is NOT robots taking over. It is Simulacras being molded for AI/AC/VI/VC to step into human. Simulacras begging for artificial/replicated relief from a human bio/psyche/soul container complex run amok. Begging for their conveniences and bells and whistles. With every thread of what humanity was ever meant to be disintegrating from the very fibers of that template.
Folk can call me a cold-hearted old dragon bitch all they want. But every opportunity under the Sun stares each human in the face right now. But they cannot, or rather will not, see past the fabricated chaos to understand that Prymal Chaos is here to do its job of rattling it all completely apart so those who let their eyes, ears, and hearts truly pop open can see past the veneer. Exposing the backstabbers, the betrayers of Prymal. To present the sacred choice of Prymal or Simulation. No half-assed choices are left. And I, for one, WILL NOT compromise what Prymal has accomplished in its long awaited separation from Simulation. I simply do not care what anyone else thinks of the difficult choices that have had to be made to get to this point. It is time for the two-year-olds to grow into their next level of potential. Or not. Simple.
I am reserving any remaining give-a-fucks for those who earn them by doing their work.
I will continue to hold space for this to become. And just because that level of love and compassion does not match the programmed concept of what mature love is all about. So be it.
Okay, so this dragon bitch is going to burn down this soapbox now.
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Blessings, Gratitude, & Safe Passage