On October 7, 2023, a significant and tragic escalation occurred in the ongoing conflict between Hamas and Israel. Early in the morning, Hamas launched a large-scale surprise attack on Israeli territory. The attack involved rocket fire and incursions by armed militants into various communities. This assault marked a particularly deadly day in the conflict’s history. It caused many casualties among both Israelis and Palestinians.
In response, Israel declared a state of war and commenced extensive military operations in Gaza. The violence quickly escalated, leading to airstrikes on Gaza and widespread destruction. The international community reacted with alarm, calling for de-escalation and urging both sides to pursue dialogue. The events of that day worsened the humanitarian crisis in Gaza. They also reignited discussions about the long-standing issues at the heart of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
As the anniversary approaches, reflections on the events and their aftermath emerge. They highlight the ongoing tensions. These tensions have a profound impact on civilians in the region.
In my book, Sapience: The Moment Is Now, I trace the roots of antisemitism back centuries. These hateful sentiments stretch back to the First Crusades and even further back in time. The night (or rather early morning) of the attack, I had a dream about the Human Cake. It was the second time I had dreamed this dream. It is not a pleasant dream. Rather, it is a shocking, revolting, scary dream, and I could not image why I was dreaming about it again.
In this dream, I see a team of doctors all wearing white coats. They enter a sterile white space where I and others wait. They enter this room through shiny white double doors. Behind these doors is the operating theater where they have been creating their new thing. It is this Thing that they are giving a press conference about. It is clear they are very pleased with their work. I can see their pride on their sly smiles. I can feel their arrogance in the way they push the Thing in a wheelchair for everyone to see.
They spare no gory details on how they created the atrocity sitting in the wheelchair. This Thing used to be a man. Now, it sits as a helpless creature in its wheelchair for it has no legs. Nor can it express any emotions because it no longer has a face. The doctors are proud of these aspects of the creature. They say it is a break through and discuss each step they took to get to this featureless creature.
Everyone in the room sits in stunned silence. There is nothing left of the man except a mound of gory goo. The doctors take turns describing with excitement how they systematically cut off every recognizable feature of the man. They describe with joy how they took these pieces and reattached them to utterly unsuitable places of the body. Places never intended for a severed limb or an eye.
The result is disgusting, stomach-churning, repulsive, beastly, vulgar, and heinous. The doctors did it, but the man volunteered. I couldn’t understand why?! Then, I woke up to the horrible news of what was happening in Israel. I was overwhelmed by the news coming out of Israel. And overhanging this was the shock and horror of my dream that lingered in my mind like an evil specter.
Carl Jung calls such moments as these Moments of Synchronicity. When any human encounters a moment of synchronicity, attention must be paid. This is because often, there is something very important for the individual to know or understand. I knew this was important.
I was working on the final stretch of my book feeling an intense need to get it published by 4/24/24. After October 7, 2023, I stopped writing and editing my book. I could not do a thing in it for the rest of the month. I felt compelled to witness the harrowing stories of survival. And I listened to the tragic stories of death of innocence people at the hands of men filled with hate.
I made a playlist on YouTube called Remember. I saved every story I heard to this list. I was shocked again and again at the savagery described by survivors. The brutality inflicted on babies, children, mothers, fathers, grandmothers, and grandfathers shook me to my core.
After this month of bearing witness, I knew what I had to do with my book. I needed to write about the Human Cake. And I also needed to include the history of the Middle East. This new research and writing sidelined me for at least another month, but I did it.
If you get my book, you will encounter the Human Cake first. He makes his appearance in the book at about page 101. Brothers of the Levant… Before the Fall begins on page 173. Histories of genocides begins around page 320 with the chapter titled: Rise of the Machine.
You need to read all of these sections to gain a full history of current crisis in the Middle East. You also need to read other sections to understand how hate has risen inside of man. He has learned to harness it with machine-like precision. I cover many, many hate groups who have emerged and are growing like a cancer all over the world. In addition, I carefully show how no human being is immune to the infection of hate. These sections are cited for I have researched them intensely. I cite historians, psychologists, and philosophers. Additionally, I reference people who have specialized and written about all this stuff for a very long time.
In this section, I talk about the Human Cake. My character Rain recalls her grandmother’s words about fear and other strong emotions. Her grandmother was a wise woman, and Rain knows she needs wisdom now to survive.
A man who clings to his instinct to kill becomes a person aroused by murder and death. It fascinates him like a candle flame, but to keep the kill candle burning… such a man must kill… constantly. But doing so in a civilized society risks punishment and possibly his own death. And so, such a man fantasizes about murder, mayhem, and massacres inside the confines of his mind. Such a man feeds his fantasies with pictures and images of dead or dying people; kill porn. Such a man glorifies death and idolizes martyrdom. Such a man celebrates the wholesale slaughter of other human beings who he considers to be less than he considers himself to be. It is a false and insincere division made by his foul and increasingly warp light of consciousness that must be constantly fed. He becomes like a drug addict who needs a hit of heroin to feel normal again.
Grandmother said that anything done constantly in the mind soon grows boring to man’s fickle, flickering light of conscious attention, so a man clinging to his kill instinct must up the ante to feed his fading fervor and desire to butcher and decimate other living beings. Such a man may pacify his erotic passion by killing what he considers lesser forms of life. He can also fuel the instinct to kill with anger, regret, and rage. He can work himself up into a berserker frenzy by consuming a steady diet of fury and indignation.
Grandmother said that a man who fantasizes about death and celebrates killing is the devil he fears in others. Such a man cultivates his inner instinct to kill to a fever-pitch, he becomes a tube of intensity, a cannula of desperate excitement, a pipeline of frantic, frenzied, futile fear and rage. His magma tube of hate drops him below the animal realm of living beings, it plunges him below the daemon realm of human beings. He falls into a monster pit, a place where he embodies the wretched vermin that he accuses others of being. His invisible world where all his thinking is done is transformed into Hell’s Kitchen populated by unrecognizable things baked in the heat of hate and scorn.
Such a man uses his laser beam of hate to mutilate his inner man. He disfigures and desecrates his inner self by cutting off his inner man’s fingers and toes, hands and feet, legs, and arms. He pulls out his inner man’s hair and gouges out his eyes. He removes his nose and mouth and face and slops them onto the growing heap of hate he is becoming. Then he turns up the heat of his fear and loathing, baking himself into a human cake made of hostility, disgust, resentment, bitterness, antipathy, and apathy.
Such a dismembered and disfigured inner man can no longer recognize the humanity in himself, and certainly not in others. He becomes a thing of contempt and repugnance, a thing no longer recognizable as human or animal, except for one thing: his thinking and his words. Such a man uses these lingering abilities with deft callousness to beguile and enthrall, to rivet and fascinate, to transfix, super charge, and magnetize the ordinary man and woman… pulling them farther and farther out of the mainstream, tempting them to leave their reservoirs of wisdom with promises of everything but love. Then he destroys their inner equanimity and binds them to him with chains of fear that are firmly fastened to his crumpled wheelchair of cruelty. He must do this for such a man is crippled by his own fear and hate. And so, he needs others to do the terrible things he dreams up, but which he is too cowardly to do himself.
Commanding his army of human zombies from his wheelchair of hate, he must constantly recruit new people to his wretched world of scorn and loathing because he throws his foot soldiers to their deaths again and again. And they must die because they have been commanded to kill the women, kill the children, kill the babies, kill the goats and chickens and dogs and wheat and barley and water… to kill anything resembling life. So, anything resembling life must fight back or be killed and die by the killer human zombies who have been robbed of their souls by the human cakes baked by their own hate.
Just before the Fall, some of the biggest, most hideous, gut-churning, ghastly acts of hate are immortalized as mere numbers: 9/11, 2/24, 10/7. Days of infamy that plunged the highly interconnected world of the dawning 21st Century not only into bloody, gruesome, localized conflicts and war, but mind grenades carefully calibrated to inspire fear and fill the ordinary man and woman with hate for the other around the entire world. It doesn’t matter what side a person is blown to in the blast of gruesome cruelty. These mind grenades are simply meant to shock and to shake the fragile foundations upon which modern people must trust will protect them and keep them safe.
With the ordinary man’s and woman’s trust in humanity shook, it doesn’t take much more for the most hateful human cakes to shatter any common bonds still holding a civilized society together into a million, billion bits. Once shattered, the hate filled human cakes rearrange the shiny, reflective shards of human consciousness like tiny mirrors on a disco ball. The human cakes shine their light of hate on the remnants of the ordinary man’s and woman’s sense of safety and security. -- Excerpt from Sapience: The Moment Is Now
What else can I say about hate of Human Cakes?
I can only show you the drawing I made of this creature… the one I dreamt about on the morning of October 7, 2023 for the second time. The dream I knew I needed to pay attention to… and so I did.
On this day six years ago, my father had a heart attack. First responders revived him after 15 minutes of CPR, and then he was flown by helicopter to the Mayo Clinic. There he was put into an induced coma and body cooled to help preserve as much brain function as possible. Nobody knew if he would wake up and if he did, how much of him would wake up. But after days of touch and go, dad came back all of him except swallowing and he had developed pneumonia due to CPR, and this was expected and Mayo began aggressive treatment of it because it turns out if you aren’t breaking ribs while doing CPR, you aren’t pumping enough blood to revive the individual.
Remembering Dad
I wrote all about this in the first anniversary of dad’s death, as well as the reasons why he did not make it.
How Narcissistic Abuse Severely Thwarted my Healing Journey
In addition to dad’s death, the CEO of a small nonprofit I was working for fired me for being by dad’s side. Most probably this CEO suffering from Narcissistic Personality Disorder and she would be fired soon enough for this and a number of other things she did or failed to do during her tenure.
Adding insult to injury, my mother-in-law who is most definitely contorted and warped by Narcissistic Personality Disorder was about to launch one of her most hideous and disgusting campaigns to make herself appear as the victim so she could harvest attention and pity from her flying monkeys. This is what narcissists enablers are called by professionals who try to help family members and people abused by Narcissists heal. The fuel for her campaign of Narcissistic madness was her own children and grandchildren.
It would take me 6 years to understand what my mother-in-law was doing and why. But back in 2018 and 2019 I simply found myself in HELL.
I should not be here today. The only thing that helped me hold on during this time of pain and abandonment was the story I had started writing in 2012. I was reading dad the latest parts of the story when he died with me by his side on August 4, 2018.
Even though dad had slipped into a delirium due to the stress of life-saving procedures such as suctioning the mucous from his airways and reinserting a feeding tube he had worked out with the back of his tongue four times the previous day, he told the nurses caring for him that he was so proud of me for writing this book and that my whole life has been preparing me for it.
So in the dark days of the summer of 2019, with the help of a friend, I returned to my story and began editing the beginning to bring it up to the level of writing I had evolved into after six years of writing. My friend was then editing my edited version of book 1.
Then, Something New Began Coming Through
Not too long into this process, something new started coming through. I argued with myself… it was right around this time in 2019… for I knew writing something new would take more time.
The something new won took 6 more years to write! I finally published the book my father believed in so much on April 24, 2024.
Here is an excerpt of some of the something new that was coming through me after father died. This is from Sapience: The Moment Is Now — What Rain knows.
From the Book
"You cannot sell wisdom, nor can you buy it. You must earn it by living fully, living unself-consciously but not unconsciously. Wisdom is a group activity. Wisdom is kind. Wisdom shares its last morsel of food simply because that is what wisdom does. Wisdom knows that everything is connected, and what you do to someone else, you have done to yourself first. Wisdom is a baby crawling and giggling with its newfound mastery of getting around. Wisdom is an old man falling and laughing at his misfortunate mishap, knowing perfectly well everyone falls sometimes and it doesn’t mean a darn thing.
Wisdom knows sometimes you are going to win. Wisdom knows sometimes you are going to lose. Wisdom knows winning and losing doesn’t mean a darn thing because that is part of being alive. Wisdom knows navigating the ups and downs, the wins and losses, are much easier and mean so much more when you share it with the people who care about you and who you care about… this is love... caring and sharing, celebrating and mourning, feasting and fasting together as ever as one.
Wisdom is the joy of sharing life with the ones you love. Wisdom is the bliss of partaking equitably in the ups and downs of life. Wisdom is tolerating in another the things that annoy you most. Tolerance is a blessing, and wisdom knows this. Tolerance and wisdom are essential because life is complicated, too complicated for one insignificant human being to know everything it must to make a good decision.
A wise person knows this. A wise person knows a single individual can never consciously gather enough information to make a wise decision: so, stop trying to fool yourself and others that you can. A wise person understands action must be taken without foreknowledge of the results, but if the action is grounded in mutuality, respect, compassion, dignity, love, and a huge heaping of tolerance… mostly the results will reap good outcomes. And when they don’t, a wise person knows it is important to try again. Failure is simply the process of success.
Tolerance is an anti-gravity force to fear. Tolerance requires a person to broaden their bandwidth of consciousness rather than narrow and restrict it as fear does. Tolerance allows an individual to sit in discomfort, to sit in not knowing, to sit in the darkness of what is not clear yet and to wait for understanding of what is right action.
Timing is everything when it comes to action. Right action done too soon quickly turns into wrong action. Right action done too late will also not produce desired results. Action done outside of its proper time or beyond what is necessary to complete a task is easily twisted and corrupted by thinking that tries to justify it. Such action grows fat with inaccurate, incorrect, false, untrue, and mistaken attributions ladled onto it to get people to act. This sort of propped up action becomes more and more improper and unsuitable for the circumstances.
Such artificial action awakens the most wicked and sinful parts of a person, because acting outside and beyond the bounds of right action requires an angry mind, a brash, conservative, intolerant, mean, merciless, unfriendly, unsympathetic, biased, disapproving, narrow-minded, and prejudiced mind. People acting in this manner are cruel, brutal, savage, bloodthirsty, vicious people driven by narrower and narrower justifications loaded with fantastical and fraudulent fancies.
Wisdom knows this and knows tolerance is the only way to slow down enough to sense and see what is really going on inside and outside of one’s own mind and body. Only by sensing and seeing more of what is actually going on in the present moment can a person produce right action at the right time.
Right action does not inflict harm unto oneself or another without a really good reason why violence is required. Isaac Asimov got it right when his character, Salvor Hardin, says: “Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.” This is true because it is so easy to lose wisdom when one is racing inside their mind, thought after thought conceived by lies, half-truths, or half-baked ideas and silly beliefs.
A person acting in such a way utilizes the narrowest bandwidth of consciousness possible yet still able to remain conscious. Any narrower, and the person would fall into a dumb, zombie-like stupor. Wisdom knows this. Wisdom knows thinking is a result of the constriction of consciousness due to fear. Wisdom knows thinking trumped up with false facts and fantastical beliefs is going to make a lot of mistakes due to its failure to grasp reality. So, like any good toddler, a person who thinks all the time and falls out of phase with right action will make more and more mistakes and will act in more and more rageful ways trying to cover up and hide all their blunders, miscalculations, gaffes, and ignorance." -- Pages 128-128
Note: the link to Sapience is supposed to be a universal link that will open to the book in whatever browser and language from which you operate; however, it has not seemed to be working, so you can also search by the ASIN: B0D2LM5B6K.
The oracle is an ancient role that a wise woman or wise man played in society. Ancient man understood balance is essential, but finding the right balance can be tricky, especially when confronted with lots of divergent opinions, ideas, gossip, agitprop, spin, hype, propaganda, indoctrination, misinformation and disinformation on top of more spin.
In today’s modern world, life is even more chaotic and nerve wracking. This is why finding peace and quiet to dream is more important than ever before, and thus the inspiration for this plush, comfy comforter and its simple words of inspiration to invite delight into the night.
“I am an Oracle. Didn’t you hear? My wisdom’s like magic… … mystic and clear. I’ll lead you to places… … free from pain, fear, and hate. So, ask me your questions… And dream into being your destiny tonight!”
— by Deborah
Oracle Collection
The oracle collection is a reminder wisdom lies inside of all of us. And it is closer than we think. Wisdom’s light is soft, gentle like the moonlight that makes night a magical time. To hear our inner oracle, we must find outer calm and tranquility, even during the worst of times or the hardest trails life throws to us. This is not easy to do when one is feeling pain, fear, or hate. The oracle helps to soothes away the blocking feelings and traumas, so we can all find our way to our inner pool of peace and tranquility where our wisdom waits to rise like a full prescient moon.
The oracle is part of my book: Sapience: The Moment Is Now. It is an archetype, which is an idea developed by Carl Jung around the turn of the 20th Century to talk about how people use consciousness. Being self-aware and thinking are things we do every day, but rarely do we think about how we do it. Jung proposed there are body parts for the mind just as there are body parts for our bodies. Archetypes are the body parts of the mind. To visualized this, the colorful women-harps. If you look closely, the woman and harp are one entity.
Rainbow Women
I created these lovely rainbow women and harps for a blog I wrote about consciousness and arches of consciousness. I used Genolve via Midjourney to create rainbow arches of consciousness that the AI displayed to me as women and musical instruments playing the chords of consciousness inside of us. This is what the AI imagined, and I really liked it. One of the cues I gave to the AI was arches of consciousness, which is short for archetypes or an idea.
If you are interested in consciousness and archetypes, they are thoroughly explored in my book as well—Sapience: The Moment Is Now (on Amazon).
Merch& Book
These are just a few of the Oracle Collection items available now on Etsy at The Quip Collection
Paperback Live: April 24, 2024 | Hardcover and Kindle available soon! | Available on Amazon
How do we, the Good People of Earth, stop the needless death and destruction happening to people who are victims of hate and rage, war, greed, victims of famine (manmade and natural), and Climate Change? How can we stop ourselves from slipping irrevocably into a collective fate, a future coming for us sooner than we think is possible, a future very soon, we, the Good People of Earth, can no longer resist, no longer fight, no longer change? How can we, the People of Earth, avert our fate and reach for our destiny?
This is a story about fate vs destiny. Moment is caught in a web of fate being created for her now. Fate is a one-sided thing. Fate is sharp and judgmental. Fate is searing, unforgiving and stinging. Fate does not care if you are old or young, innocent or guilty, happy or sad, rich or poor, powerful or weak. Fate is fueled by fear, rage, and hate. Fate happens when you least expect it to, a lot like death. Fate is our collective fall over the Climate Cliff.
Destiny is a two-sided thing. Destiny is hard, and it is soft. Destiny is grueling and also infinitely effortless. Destiny will make you mad, and it will make you sane. Destiny will make you scream and shout and stomp it all out in hopeless impotence, and it will give you everlasting peace. Destiny requires endurance and inner fortitude. There is nothing easy about destiny. It is a choice that must be seen from both sides and endured with patience, tolerance, and acceptance to what it shows you. Destiny is fueled by awe, wonder, reverence, and honest self-reflection. Destiny is the beginning of wisdom.
What will you choose? Every person is voting. Do we begin our long journey back from perdition, a place we made all by ourselves. Or do we fall, returning to the silence from which we came? The moment is now to choose something different because now is the only place of creation.
