Tag: Ontology

I don’t believe in a spiritually led, military-manipulated UAP community

I don’t buy the idea of a spiritually led, military-manipulated UAP community—a fragmented crew of hopeful mystics and starry-eyed believers, jerked around by the strings of men draped in medals and clearance badges. It’s too slick, too tidy, too perfectly packaged. This smells like a hustle, like a carnival barker luring suckers in with promises of cosmic wonders while secretly pocketing their cash. And behind that curtain? Not a single celestial revelation, but something grubby, mundane, and unmistakably human.

The spiritually led, military-influenced UAP scene is the perfect example of narrative capture—where the raw weirdness of a genuine phenomenon gets swallowed up by the mechanisms of bureaucratic theater. It’s an epistemic Potemkin village, a shiny façade built to house the dreams of mystics and conspiracy theorists alike. On one side, you have the believers—eyes wide with wonder—and on the other, men with their medals and badges, pretending to hold the keys to the universe. But what they’ve really constructed is a 21st-century cargo cult, armed with PowerPoint slides and a dash of New Age mysticism.

It’s a con job, plain and simple. A choreographed distraction, carefully designed to move curiosity out of the picture and replace it with spectacle. The modern carnival barker is alive and well, updated for the era of black budgets and soft power. “Step right up, folks, and catch a glimpse of the cosmic wonders!” they say. But behind the curtain? No great truths, no epiphanies, just the same tired bureaucracy with a fresh coat of paint.

And that’s the beauty of it: they’ve built a story that feels noble, almost sacred, while keeping the disciples starstruck enough to miss the man behind the curtain, cranking the dials and laughing all the way to his next classified briefing. Because that’s the game, right?

But here’s the good news—well, good in a grim, absurd way—this whole UAP show is probably just another covert military operation. A well-funded, well-crafted test program, operating under wraps. The government doesn’t bother with wild cover-ups. Why would they? In a world drowning in noise, they’ve figured out something better: omission. The real trick is letting the hysteria spiral out of control while quietly keeping the truth hidden in plain sight. The truth doesn’t need to be buried; it just needs to be drowned in a tidal wave of half-baked theories, wild conjecture, and outright paranoia. And that’s where counterintelligence comes in.

The signal gets lost in the noise—and that’s exactly how the system likes it. The UFO panic isn’t some sign of alien life; it’s the perfect cover for any operation that requires staying under the radar. It’s a smokescreen, a tactical maneuver designed to let the real action take place in the dark, behind closed doors.

The more people obsess over aliens and UFOs, the easier it is for the real secrets to slip by unnoticed. Forget about flying saucers and interdimensional beings—look at McGuire AFB. The truth there is boring. It’s military drones. High-tech stuff, the kind of thing that doesn’t want to be known. But it’s right there, hiding in plain sight. John Greenewald, Jr. called it out long ago: McGuire was already a “test corridor” for cutting-edge drone and air mobility technology. But nobody was paying attention. Instead, they were too busy chasing UFOs across the night sky, speculating about aliens while military experiments were quietly unfolding below.

Let’s get real for a second. The truth isn’t “out there.” It’s buried under bureaucratic layers, hidden in some Nevada desert hangar or Virginia basement office. It’s not the stuff of spacefaring civilizations or cosmic revelations—it’s cold, metallic, human, and thoroughly unspiritual. The real story is about control, power, and keeping the game going without anyone catching on. So spare me the sermons from generals-turned-gurus. They’re not prophets—they’re propagandists, hawking a narrative so loud you forget to question it. This isn’t a spiritual awakening; it’s a charade, and we’re all choking on it.

UAP believers and their government enablers are caught in a trap, trapped in their tiny, self-absorbed worldview, stuck thinking that more energy, more power, and more control—basically, the same tired narrative of human “progress”—are the keys to understanding the phenomenon. They can’t see beyond that scale, and as a result, they’re totally unequipped to grasp what’s really going on. The phenomenon itself? It doesn’t care about energy extraction, military budgets, or grandiose visions of power. It’s something more subtle, more complex, something that transcends human comprehension.

Ultimately, the question isn’t whether UAPs are real, but why they are so carefully maintained within the realm of the unknown. The mystery surrounding UAPs is not a mere byproduct of cosmic curiosity or scientific inquiry; it’s a strategic maneuver in the modern era of surveillance, control, and the manipulation of public perception. The enigma of UAPs serves those in power, primarily government agencies and powerful corporations, who have the capacity to manipulate information and shape technological futures.

In a world where information is the currency of control, the unknown becomes the ultimate asset. By maintaining UAPs in a suspended state of mystery, governments can leverage the resulting intrigue to distract, confuse, and captivate the public. The phenomenon allows for the creation of a narrative that is both too elusive to be disproven and too compelling to be dismissed. This is a perfect breeding ground for “soft power”—the ability to shape public opinion, influence policy, and cultivate legitimacy through the sheer force of narrative.

The true power of the UAP, then, lies not in what it is—in terms of physical reality—but in what it represents. The mystery surrounding UAPs acts as a kind of “floating signifier” in Saussurean terms, meaning that its meaning is in constant flux and can be shaped by external influences. This allows those who control the symbol (governments, media, conspiracy theorists, etc.) to influence how it is understood and to align it with particular agendas, whether that’s distracting the public from other issues, reinforcing narratives about technological superiority, or maintaining control over knowledge and information.

In sum, UFOs or UAPs function as a highly flexible symbol within the Saussurean system—an object whose meaning is constantly in flux, manipulated by those in power, and open to a wide array of interpretations. The meaning of the symbol is less about the object itself and more about what is projected onto it, shaping public perception and discourse in profound ways.

In this context, UAPs aren’t about alien life or intergalactic exploration. They are symbols of power—both in the sense of what can be hidden and what can be revealed at will. They are part of an ongoing game where governments don’t simply control what you know, but more importantly, control what you are allowed to wonder about. The mystery of UAPs isn’t about discovery; it’s about control over the unknown. This carefully cultivated unknown provides the perfect narrative frame for the forces that shape the technological, political, and economic landscape of the future.

Thus, the real power in UAPs isn’t in their potential to challenge our understanding of the universe. It lies in their ability to sustain a carefully crafted narrative of uncertainty, which, in turn, sustains the ability of powerful institutions to maintain their grip on knowledge, innovation, and the direction of human progress. The question, in the end, is not what UAPs are—but why they remain a carefully guarded secret, even as the world becomes increasingly transparent in every other way.

Everything is Subjunctive

Subjectivity Implies Reality’s Contingency:

“Everything is subjective” is a performative contradiction, a metaphysical sleight of hand. The assertion of subjectivity as a universal condition paradoxically institutes a meta-subjectivity, a transcendental signifier that grounds the very groundlessness it proclaims. This is the insidious logic of the logocentric, a phantom objectivity haunting the spectral realm of the subjective. The subjunctive, often relegated to the margins of grammatical discourse, is here elevated to an ontological principle. Yet, in this elevation, it is also diminished, reduced to a mere modality of the subjective.

The subjunctive, a mode of potentiality, of what could be, is thus conscripted into the service of a metaphysics of indeterminacy. This is a curious operation, a dialectic of affirmation and negation. On the one hand, the subjunctive opens up a space of infinite possibility, a horizon of undecidability. On the other, it is confined within the limits of the subjective, a bounded field of experience.

The play between the subjective and the subjunctive, between the actual and the potential, is a chiasmic entanglement.The one is always already implicated in the other, and vice versa. In this sense, the claim “everything is subjective” is not merely a description of the world but a performative act that constructs the world as such. It is a deconstruction of the metaphysical edifice, a dismantling of the hierarchical opposition between subject and object, appearance and reality. Yet,in this deconstruction, new structures of power and meaning emerge, new forms of domination and exclusion.

The question then becomes: Can the subjunctive be liberated from the constraints of subjectivity? Can it become a site of radical alterity, a space beyond the reach of metaphysics? Or is it doomed to remain a captive of the logocentric order, a ghost haunting the machine of representation?

A “presque” Deleuzian Perspective

To assert “everything is subjective” is to posit a false unity, a phantom totality. It is to impose a static order upon the ceaseless flux of becoming. Subjectivity, in this sense, is a molar construct, a rigid form that arrests the nomadic flow of desire.

Rather than a realm of personal opinion, the subjective is a field of intensities, a dynamic interplay of forces. It is not a bounded territory but an open, expansive plane. To say “everything is subjunctive” might appear to align with this,suggesting a world of potentiality. However, the subjunctive is still trapped within the confines of representation, of a language bound by grammar and logic.

Deleuze would insist on a move beyond subjectivity, towards a becoming-imperceptible. The true plane of immanence is not subjective or objective but a pure difference without identity. It is a field of intensities where desire flows freely,unhindered by the molar formations of subjectivity. To truly grasp the world, one must become a nomad, a line of flight escaping the sedentary order of representation. The subjunctive, while hinting at a world beyond the given, ultimately remains within the horizon of the possible, a realm still circumscribed by the virtual.

To truly think without a subject is to enter the abyss of pure creation, to become a force of difference. Only then can we begin to understand the world as a rhizomatic multiplicity, a dynamic network without center or hierarchy.

EVERYTHING IS SUBJUNCTIVE

The assertion “everything is subjunctive” is a provocative invitation into a deconstructive exploration of language and ontology. It dismantles the rigid structures of logic and metaphysics, opening up a space of infinite deferral. The subjunctive, often marginalized as a grammatical mood of potentiality, becomes the fundamental mode of being, challenging the metaphysics of presence and refusing the absolute.

This subjunctive realm is not a utopian escape but a site of perpetual negotiation, where meaning is always in flux. It posits language as a ceaseless play of signifiers without ultimate signified, transforming the subjunctive from a mere grammatical construct into an ontological condition.

Reality, then, becomes a chiasm of the actual and the virtual, an interplay of presence and absence. This perspective destabilizes the foundations of metaphysics, dissolving the rigid dichotomies that have long dominated philosophical thought.

The subjunctive becomes the haunting specter of what could be, a ghost in the machine of language. However, it is not a realm of pure freedom but a site of complex interrelations, a network of differences. It is within this différance that the world unfolds, a perpetual becoming without origin or end.

This view invites us to reconsider our understanding of existence, truth, and meaning, proposing a more fluid and dynamic ontology that embraces potentiality and ambiguity as fundamental aspects of reality.

Repetition

The subjunctive transcends its grammatical origins, emerging as a cosmic force and vital intensity. It represents the plane of immanence where all possibilities converge and diverge, forming a rhizome of potentialities. This dynamic flow escapes the constraints of representation, revealing the true nature of becoming—a process without subject or object, a pure event.

In this perspective, the universe is not a realm of uncertainty but a field of infinite creativity, a space for inventing new worlds. The actual world is always a partial realization of a virtual multiplicity, where the subjunctive acts as the generative power itself.

To embrace the subjunctive is to affirm the joy of creation and the ecstasy of difference. It represents the nomadic movement beyond the fixed and determined, a vitalism without ground. This cosmic force embodies the affirmation of difference over identity, of becoming over being.

In essence, the subjunctive becomes the lifeblood of reality’s rhizomatic structure, fostering multiple, open-ended connections. It is not a modalization of the possible but the pure event itself, a ceaseless differentiation that shapes our understanding of existence and potential.

The subjunctive is the collapse of the subject-object dichotomy. It is the dissolution of the rigid structures of representation. It is the affirmation of a world without guarantees, a universe of pure intensity. In this sense, the subjunctive is not merely a linguistic mode but a cosmic condition, a fundamental ontological principle.

Hypermediums

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The dominant tech, that meat machine we interface with, pumps out a new identity script. Not a conscious choice, mind you, but a virus burrowing into the circuits of the desiring-machine we call “self.” This rewritten self demands a societal reshuffle, a chaotic carnival where the old order dissolves in a pool of psychic goo.

But the flesh is weak, and the Word, in its new technological guise, becomes a virus. It infects minds, breeding new tribes. The straights, clinging to the anal stage of communication – the printed text, the rigid categories – find themselves staring at the flickering id of the new generation, wired to the pulsating network. They speak different tongues, not just of language, but of perception itself.

The dominant medium, that meat-puppet master, rewrites the script of the Self. No longer a reflection in a still pond, identity becomes a flickering hologram, a fractured assemblage. The old, Oedipal mold – superego screaming from the dusty gramophone of tradition – crumbles under the digital deluge. This demands a societal re-orgasmization, a hacking of the Symbolic Order.

This psychic apartheid, this rupture in the Imaginary, births wars both literal and metaphorical. The printing press, that mechanical phallus, splintered Christendom, birthing a brood of nation-states locked in a bloody power struggle. The new medium, whatever form it may take, will be no different. Within the new paradigm itself, further fractures emerge – warring factions, each claiming the “real” interpretation of the digital dream. Here, the struggle is not for land, but for the very definition of the Self in this new frontier.

Naturally, this splinters the looking glass. Those clinging to the fractured reflections of the past – their egos tethered to the obsolescent – clash with the freshly minted selves birthed by the new tech. Here’s the kicker: their very thought patterns diverge. They speak different dialects of the Symbolic, their realities fragmented by incommensurable signifiers. Thus, the schism yawns open, a Burroughs-esque cut bisecting the social body. Here, the die-hard traditionalists cling to the tattered husks of their former selves, defined by the ghosts in the media machine of the past. Opposite, gibbering and gesturing, stand the children of the new flesh, their very being a product of the digital flux. Communication crumbles, for their languages are not of the same order. One speaks in the rigid categories of the Symbolic, the other gurgles in the primordial soup of the Imaginary, their desires a tangled mess of wires and synapses.

The dominant medium, that meat puppet of the social order, writhes in the throes of metamorphosis. No longer passive clay for the potter’s thumb, it becomes a writhing flesh-circuit, reconfiguring the very notion of the self. This monstrous birthing, this eruption of the technological Real, shatters the mirror of identity. We are no longer reflections in a stagnant pool, but fractured data streams, funneled through the chrome labyrinth.

From this fractured landscape, wars erupt, bloody ballets orchestrated by the death drive. Remember the Protestant itch that followed the printing press? A mere shadow play compared to the psychic maelstrom brewing now.

This ain’t your daddy’s Reformation, this is a full-on psychic civil war. And it doesn’t stop at the grand clashes – the different flavors of the “new” themselves splinter into squabbling factions. Think nation-states morphing into fractured ideological cults, each convinced they hold the key to unlocking the new identity matrix.

Welcome to the meat market, chum. Strap yourself in.

History, that ever-repeating nightmare, echoes with the screams of these battles. The Printing Press, that mechanical Moloch, birthed the Reformation, a bloody carnival of fractured identities, birthing nation-states from the splintered carcass of a unified Christendom. Now, the circuits hum with the potential for a new reformation, a war fought not with swords, but with algorithms and avatars. The old guard, their fortresses built from paper and stone, tremble before the digital hordes. Within the new paradigm, even the victors face a brutal struggle, for the very nature of “victory” is rewritten by the code

A Lacanian Epilogue: The Real Breaks Through

In this digital crucible, the Self, that elusive Lacanian mirage, dissolves. The Symbolic order, with its comforting categories, crumbles. We are cast adrift in the churning sea of the Real, bombarded with a sensory overload that defies codification. This is the ultimate revolution, not a political one, but an ontological one. Here, at the edge of the technological abyss, we confront the raw, unmediated truth of our existence: we are but flickering nodes in a vast, interconnected network, forever yearning for a lost sense of self in a world remade by the machine.

Bonus: Burroughs would likely revel in the grotesque physicality of the new medium – the electrodes burrowing into the skull, the augmented limbs reshaping the body. Lacan might focus on the fragmentation of the Self, the way the digital panopticon shatters the unified ego into a million flickering avatars.

This analysis is just a starting point, a cut-up concoction ready to be further spliced and remixed. The possibilities, like the ever-evolving technological landscape, are endless.