surrealism infiltration of the arcane novice, the impulsion to order, reality salad. she's disturbingly attractive in her compulsion drive, like a whale to a plankton. i tune in to the signal avoid the noise, the satellites orbit our heads just above the stratosphere but are obscured from ground radar due to deflecting devices installed. these devices were made in a chinese laboratory, annexed to a factory where children of political prisoners are enslaved. they usually last until adolescence then their brain cells are harvested for nefarious experiments with old men in uniforms looking for immortality. some are 100's of years old, others 1000's. 

dr. wu is at least 10000 years old and assisted in the rise of pottery, animal husbandry and mastery of bone flute. it is true that today he still plays the bone flute, more for meditation than artistic pursuits. he is also a master of chi energy and proficient in acupuncture and the human meridian system. 

the impenetrable satellite system sends out a low frequency subsonic noise that blocks the pineal glands from building up dmt. it keeps evolution in check and humanity at a smart monkey level. fluoride was ineffective as so many people turned to fresh uncontaminated water. tv became to obvious and media propaganda just cause division. what the immortals wanted more than anything was herd mentality. mass control. 

dr. wu had consulted the i ching this morning, his boney hands and long extended fingers drew the six sticks and with his ink calligraphy pen he drew the lines. 

hexagram 59

dissolving

progressing

the king grants there be a temple

life is an all or nothing equation

he sips tea from a small cup, his diet is a handful of berries and seeds now, not much point in eating food he has mastered light. 

below his citadel the slaves do their labour, they squabble amongst themselves about petty divisions and whom has the better idea. all sides think they are correct, as they split into fundamentalism. often murders are committed. tension is kept high and the mass functions in a state of fear, mistrust and suspicion all the time. dr. wu likes it like this, stops them getting anywhere. fear is the ultimate weapon, and it's so easy to use. occasionally one individual comes along and rises from the mass, a man or woman who does not follow the herd. an individual who knows there is a greater picture beyond the fear. they are sometimes elevated to a position of meaningless authority until they are undermined or assassinated or an opposing argument comes along. sometimes it's stolen, the hordes are often far to stupefied to know.

dr. wu laughs to himself as he watches people squabbling and fight over ideas and thoughts they have. he laughs so hard sometimes it hurts.

the satellite weapon calcifies the pineal gland so effectively most of the global population are like ants now, immune from independant thoughts and action. 'on your knees,' dr. wu whispers, as his narrow lips blow a soft plume across the surface of his cup.

the irony is you don't have to be on your knees to be on your knees. 

the useful idiot is a good analogy, dr. wu often seeds them with ideology and idealism they can use to disrupt natures evolutionary plan. his position calls upon it, to subvert nature is the ultimate evil, to use those who defend nature to subvert nature on his behalf is just elementary tactics. it's the art of war and when it comes to manipulation dr. wu is amongst a small few who are not only masters but ippissimus.

he sips his tea, looks down at his old feet, notices the long veins stick out, it reminds him of the years amongst the water people, a small tribal community who lived on the shoreline of a tropical island. that man he met captain mission, a strange figure from his ancient history. 

what was that place called, libeteria? libertasia? mmm, it had an annoying name. 

was he french or english, most definitely a mix of europian and some exotic blend. that long black ravens hair, his library of philosophy, poetry and esoteric texts. and his people. mmm, dr. wu reminisce at how he was shipwrecked there, washed up on the shore and given safe haven amongst the community. they were unlike any group of people he had encountered, progressive thinkers, free individuals, in flow with nature and the divine. definitely understood their place within the universe, almost guardians. but they were also pyrates, wanted by the french navy, the spanish the english and the portuguese. they were known for liberation. not just of the flesh but of the spirit. they were dangerous. yet he found their community peaceful. he read many rare books there, he walked barefeet for many years, he even sailed with them once on a mission. 

they intercepted a vessel from england sailing to the americas, it held coin for a treasury and a two political prisoners whom had attempted to write a treatise that empowered children. educators they called themselves. 

we raided the vessel, sneaking up in the evening, stealth like, captain missions tactics were non violent, his men just put sleeping potion in their rum.

that night we liberated the prisoners, the gold and the ships library. we also left the food and water as the island was abundant. sometimes they took the crew.

captain mission divided the spoils up equally and gave each man a book, keeping the rest for his library. he was adamant that all his people be literate and show great respect for all cultures, valuing the arts and differences. everyman was free to join him, or they would be released at the nearest island to rejoin their nations when rescued. 

as we returned to libertaria i began to understand why i was shipwrecked here, why i should be exposed to such enlightened behaviour. i would have to kill this man and all his people. 

it was not difficult, the community kept all their weapons in one place but were encouraged to carry knives. the captain had a sleek black blade made from obsidian. 

it was not difficult to kill them, this was far before i had learnt subversion and subtle arts so i relied upon brute force. the women fought bravely but without the men their conclusion was inevitable.

i slaughtered all. 

captain mission was the last, he was forced to watch while i did my work. i left him hanging while his feet were balanced upon the small cross. 

his eyes bore down upon me as i came for him, kicking the cross away, smiling as his body contorted and twitched but those eyes, those eyes penetrated my very soul.

now as i look back i recall what happened, i still feel his eyes burning into my depths from the past.

now in my present, my plan is come to fruition, the seeds sown long ago germinate into their conditions. limited stunted and de evolved. it is reverse engineering, i am a god.

but shadows have familiarity, ghosts linger, the past is haunting me, he haunts me. 

i watched him die, his eyes gazed deeper into my soul than was rational, those dark eyes, black as space held me prisoner and penetrated space and time for now they are there looking at me.  is there no escape, not now!

i watched his breath leave his body, the spasm in his leg, the tongue rolling out, i saw it happen. death. from which there is no return.

yet here he is. returned.

i look away at the hexagram

dissolving, i am dissolving as he sees me. 

progressing, he is resurrected.

the king grants there be a temple

he wears the crown of light above his head now fully forming, along with his body, a crown of white light and wings, wings, he is no longer human. he has wings and a crown of white light, a crown. he is king!

and i have disappeared.

life is an all or nothing equation