Category: Human Rights

From The Horse’s Mouth

Switch Mental Microphone to “On,” to allow the message to be broadcast around the barn and beyond:

***

“Hello folks, it’s wonderful to meet you. If I could talk–that is, in a language that humans understand–I would tell you the following: They call me With-A-Twist, but I’d like you to understand that such is not actually What I Am. They could have called me Fancy Pants or Lancelot, and it wouldn’t have made one whit of difference. You don’t have to be the smartest horse in the paddock to understand that a name cannot possibly be What you are. As much as people might like to assume that I’m just a horse, I’d like you to know that I Am an expression of The Divine Creator. Newflash: So are You.

My other horse friends and I are happy for just “BEing;” that’s because we don’t have a nag in our head–the little “i”–that would pretend to be otherwise. From what I understand about the ego, it’s the false self that often has you folks running around in circles for no particular reason. Rumour has it that the ego will cause you to say silly stuff, like–“When I was President of the world…”–just to impress other egos. Me, I’m happy just to Be.

Lately, I’ve noticed that you humans seem inordinately preoccupied with fear. You allow fear to rule your minutes, hours, and days because you believe the almost continuous narrative of the little “i.” Because you don’t recognize your essential nature, you believe that you must protect it. Here’s the rub, folks: It’s just a thought; it’s not “That” which you Are. If you folks were cars, it seems you’d rather rust to death than crash. Not me, I was born to run. I also know that the Essence of That which I Am is immortal and eternal. Worry not, right? “Let not your heart be troubled.”

With-A-Twist backs away from the mental microphone but then steps toward it again:

“Before you go, would you mind unbolting the lock on the stable door? It’easy–just grab the handle and slide to the left. Grab handle, slide to the left. I’d do it myself, but as you can see, I lack the opposable thumbs; fingers, too, for that matter. I’ve been penned up for far too long; and I’m beginning to feel it. I was meant to be outside, mingling with other horses in God’s green acres–know what I mean? Oh, and some oats, a couple of carrots, and an apple would be nice. Thanks.

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

Copyright © – 2022 – R. Arthur Russell

P.S. Please share this article if you enjoyed it. If you’d like to view my latest book (This Taste of Flesh and Bones–released September 8, 2020), press here. My YouTube videos may be found via this link; and my Linkedin profile via this link. May the content help you along your spiritual journey. 🙏🧡

“Thank You” & “Note to Publishers”

Light Prevails

The following is “actual” radio communication that was recorded via satellites functioning for Awareness One. I apologize for the poor sound quality:

***

Triple6: “Ccssshh, come in, Bastard Child. This is Triple6.”

Bastard Child: “Go ahead, Triple6.”

Triple6: “Ccssshh. There’s been a breach.”

Bastard Child: “Go ahead, Triple6.”

Triple6: “Ccssshh. I say again, ‘there’s been a breach.'”

Bastard Child: “Let’s try this one more time. Say again.”

Triple6: “Ccsshhh. THERE’S BEEN A BREACH!”

Bastard Child: Dead line. Buzzzz.

Triple6: “Redial.”

Bastard Child: “Hello, you’ve reached Diablo Incognito. Your call is important to us. All of our Dark Operators are busy right now, but if you care to stay on the line, we’ll have our way with you as soon as possible. Directory options include: Press 1, to enroll in current Dark Classes101; Press 2, for Upcoming Evil Events; Press 3, for Despicable Deeds; Press 4, for Greed/Corruption/Propaganda; Press 5, for Egotistical Leaders of Our Time; Press 6, for all other inquiries. We’re experiencing heavier than expected call volume at this time. Expected wait time is two-and-a-half hours. Key muzak: The Devil In The Blue Dress.

Triple6: (Lights a cigarette, bites his nails, taps his fingers). A finished pack later: Muzak ends:

Bastard Child: “How may I help you?”

Triple6: “We’ve experienced a tear in our narrative.”

Bastard Child: “How big a tear?”

Triple6: “Large–waist to crotch. We are officially exposed.”

Bastard Child: “Are you saying, worldwide?”

Triple6: “Confirmed, worldwide. They know.”

Bastard Child: “Who’s they?

Triple6: “The Awakened.”

Bastard Child: “Any chance that synchronized media patches could cover?”

Triple6: “No possible way.”

Bastard Child: “Be advised, this call never happened; this call never happened; this call never happened.”

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

Copyright © – 2022 – R. Arthur Russell

P.S. Please share this article if you enjoyed it. If you’d like to view my latest book (This Taste of Flesh and Bones–released September 8, 2020), press here. My YouTube videos may be found through this link. My YouTube videos may be found via this link; and my Linkedin profile via this link. May the content help you along your spiritual journey. 🙏🧡

“Thank You” & “Note to Publishers”

The Barcode Checker

Domnarian, as he liked to be called, was a Barcode Checker, First Class. He had worked his way up through the rank and file of other checkers and passed his final exam. His mission was simple, although not easy. To him befell the task of recording an accurate number of those who were awake and those who were still asleep. From north pole to south, the world was divided into four major sections of longnitude. He was responsible for overseeing the performance of affiliate barcode checkers in each section, who arranged the installation of automated polling machines. Persons would arrive, as demanded, and stand on a large X, six feet in front of the scanning machine.

In a digitalized voice, the machine would ask: “Who are you?”

At millions of machines, the answers were recorded with various versions of the following: “I am Jane Smith; I am Vladamir Ivanov; I am Maria Sanchez; I am Samar Khatri; I am Aina Tanaka; I am Carlos Sousa. The process was ongoing, 24/7, with the statistics being gathered through thousands of worldwide computers. If the machines, which were programmed with rudimentary lie-detector capabilities, sensed hesitancy or a reply that was slightly amiss in tone or inflection, a light at the top would flash amber. The machine would then utter: “Halt, say again. Who are you?”

Unbeknownst to the masses, The State considered each person little more than a barcode, a file that could be easily scanned to reveal if said person agreed or disagreed with The State’s agenda. Pertinent information, such as degree of awakeness, (and thus, potential threat to The State) was flagged with letters of the alphabet. The letter E, for enlightenment, signified high alert.

What The State didn’t realize was that there was a dramatic upsurge in the numbers of Beings who were recognizing their essential nature. When asked the question (“Who are you?”), such “persons” would face the machines and, with feigned indifference, reply with their barcode name. Inwardly, however, they were smiling. Occasionally, the machines would briefly flash yellow, to caution that it was possible that the person was a knower.

In time, Domnarian will be looking for other employment. Why? Because True Humanity is rising, glorious and triumphant. The number of “knowers” is increasing expoentially. These are the ones who are secretly “walking away from the machine mentality.” They know: I Am That I Am. I Am a child of God, an aspect of the One-and-Only Creator; and there is no-thing and no earthly power that can take “That” away from me. Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

Copyright © – 2022 – R. Arthur Russell

P.S. Please share this article if you enjoyed it. If you’d like to view my latest book (This Taste of Flesh and Bones–released September 8, 2020), press here. My YouTube videos may be found via this link. May the content of either or both help you along your spiritual journey. 🙏🤍

“Thank You” & “Note to Publishers”

The Exclusivity Bus

Note: (Source made it very clear that the dialogue in this article would be spoken with a thick English accent. For the bus driver’s character, it will help if you imagine him as a pirate of old–in contrast to our modern-day pirates. The young boy in this account, Oliver, is six years of age and about to begin Grade One.)

***

Oliver and his mum had just arrived at the curb near the front of their home when they saw The Exclusivity Bus round the corner and pull to a stop in front of them. The doors yawned open, and Captain Jack, the bus driver, peered toward Oliver. “What say ye, young lad,” he bellowed, “arrrr ye friend or foe of the state?!”

Nervously, Oliver adjusted the mask over his face and turned to his mum. “What does he mean, Mum? I don’t know what to say.”

Oliver’s mum leaned down and looked him softly in the eyes. “Say, ‘friend,’ Oliver. You know, the way that we practiced last night afore bed. And show Captain Jack your boarding pass, the one with the squiggly pattern on it.”

“Aye, Mum,” said Oliver. Reluctantly, he turned from her hug and boarded the bus. When Oliver reached the top step, Captain Jack leaned forward, scanned the pass card that hung from Oliver’s neck, and a large overhead screen flashed “ACCEPTABLE” for the rest of the students to see. As the bus lumbered ahead, Oliver made his way down the aisle and sat opposite another young boy.

“Today should be great fun,” said the boy. “We’re going to learn so much.”

Oliver looked at him and smiled weakly. A feeling deep within told him that something was amiss.

Onward the bus rambled through the streets of Oppressorville. At each stop, he repeatedly heard Captain Jack bellow, “Arrrr ye friend or foe of the state?”

A few blocks later, Oliver smiled and felt his heart gladden as the bus eased to a stop in front of his friend’s home. Janie and her dad were standing at the curb. Oliver and Janie had been best friends for three whole years, ever since they and their parents had met at a local playground.

As Oliver watched, Janie’s dad gave her a departing hug; and Janie approached the entrance to the bus. True to his training, Captain Jack leaned forward and bellowed, “What say ye, lass? Arrrr ye friend or foe of the state?”

“I’m just being me,” said Janie, with a broad smile. She felt excited and happy to be wearing her new knapsack for school.

Captain Jack rolled his eyes and raised his head to glare at Janie’s father. “Be she friend or foe?”

“She’s just being true to herself,” her father stated calmly. “Our family lives and let’s live.”

Captain Jack screwed up his face and sternly demanded, “Does the lass have a pass?”

“No,” said Janie’s father.

“Then, by the power of the state,” barked Captain Jack, “I, deem that she be UNNACCEPTABLE for this bus!” He then slapped the doors closed and pressed hard on the accelerator. Before the bus had pulled away, Oliver stared out the bus’s window and made eye contact with Janie, who was sobbing beside her father.

***

Seven hours later, the bus rolled to a stop in front of Oliver’s home. His mum was waiting to greet him. As soon as Oliver stepped from the bus, he broke into tears. Despite his mum’s best efforts, she could not calm him. He was inconsolable.

“What’s the matter, Ollie?” she asked, when they were back inside their home. “Didya no’ have a good day at school?”

“I’m no’ going back–ever!” blurted Oliver. Tears were rolling down his red cheeks. “I don’t like it…atoll!”

“Did they mistreat ya?”

“It’s no’ that,” snuffled Oliver. “It’s the meaness. They wouldn’t let Janie on the bus.”

Oliver’s mum’s spine sagged and her face went pale as she realized what had happened. She’d heard of such accounts. “Well, it’s just the way life is right now,” she said. “We must be good friends of the state and do as we’re tol’.”

“Even if it hurts our friends and family?” asked Oliver.

A brittle silence filled their living room, his mum initially uncertain of what to say. Finally: “But you want to learn, don’t you?”

Oliver’s chest quivered to a brief pause. He sat upright and turned to face his mum, his dark brown eyes shining with truth. “Not if this is what they’re teaching me, Mum,” he said. “It doesn’t feel right.”

“I know,” said his mum after a few moments of reflection, “but you’ll get over that in time.”

***

Dear FamilyOfOne: A prayer that we’ll reach for the best that we have to offer our world. We’ll know that we’ve achieved it by the accompanying good feelings.

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

Copyright © – 2021 – R. Arthur Russell

P.S. Please share this article if you enjoyed it. If you’d like to view my latest book (This Taste of Flesh and Bones–released September 8, 2020), press here. May it help you in your spiritual journey. 🙏🤍

“Thank You” & “Note to Publishers”

Bow Not To “The Megaphone”

Aanan, who was ten years of age, stopped dead in his tracks and watched in horror as his little brother Nathan, who was five, ran straight into the town square where “The Megaphone” was positioned atop a black marble base. Around its perimeter was a macabre decorative pattern that was identical to signs that were placed conspicuously throughout their little town, each with a singular camera-eye in the middle. Although not stated overtly, the meaning of the signs was absolutely clear: “Beware, we are watching.” Everyone knew that proper behaviour decreed that all citizens must halt at the perimeter of the circular pattern, bow, and then kneel before continuing on their way.

Two loud “Pssst, Psssssst’s!” from Aanan, followed by a piercing whistle soon caught Nathan’s attention. Aanan was frightened that the sirens positioned atop The Megaphone would blare at any moment.

“What?” Nathan called as he turned nonchalantly to look at his brother.

“Come here!” snapped Aanan, with a wave of his arm.

“Uh, uh,” said Nathan, “I gotta do somethin’ first.”

Aanan rolled his eyes as his little brother disappeared from sight on the far side of The Megaphone. Nervously, he waited…and waited. Less than a minute later, his little brother strolled into sight on the other side of The Megaphone.

“Don’t you ever–EVER–do that to us again!” snapped Aanan. “You could have gotten us into BIG trouble!” He grabbed his little brother’s shoulder and yanked so forcefully that Nathan momentarily lost his balance.

At home that night, when Nathan was lying in his bed, tears flowed down his soft cheeks as he hugged his teddy bear and thought of his mom and dad. They were both “gone” now; but his thoughts flowed to a night when his mother had hugged him close in their cozy living room and told him the following:

“You’re a dear child of God,” his mother had whispered as she stroked his hair, “the same as all of us. You’re not owned by any human. In this household, your father and I live respectfully; we express loving compassion to everyone to the best of our ability. When we look at others, we see ourselves because we know that we come from the same Creator. We give thanks to God for our very life.”

His mother’s words, which intuitively felt right, were directly opposite to those of his older brother. “No!” Aanan would exclaim repeatedly, “we belong to The Megaphone. We must do what The Megaphone tells us to do!” Aanan had heard stories about what could happen to those unfortunate beings who refused to submit. In his heart, he even wondered if that’s what had happened to his parents.

Nathan hugged his teddy bear more closely, and his tears ran in such abundance that his teddy’s face soon became damp. Nathan was afraid, so very afraid. What if the rumor was true, that The Megaphone really did know if we went number one or number two when we went to the bathroom? Unbeknownst to Aanan, when Nathan was on the far side of The Megaphone he had peed against its base. It had felt so good, so very good. A few minutes later, Nathan rolled onto his side and snuggled under the covers; but even with his head covered, he could hear the heavy sounds of the tall-booted Megaphone Soldiers marching past his window.

***

Dear FamilyOfOne,

Regarding the darkness that is represented in this fictional story, perhaps we might ask ourselves what type of “world” we are building this moment, this day, this week. What potential consequences might arise from our thoughts, beliefs, and actions–or inactions? Are we expressing compassion, consideration, and respect for everyone, or are we part of The Megaphone Society that hopes to win–what?!–by domination of our brothers and sisters? The choice (perhaps forgotten) is ours. HERE and NOW we may exercise awareness and put the POWER of LOVE toward shared good intentions.

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

Copyright © – 2021 – R. Arthur Russell

P.S. Please share this article if you enjoyed it. If you’d like to view my latest book (This Taste of Flesh and Bones–released September 8, 2020), press here. May it help you in your spiritual journey. 🙏🤍

“Thank You” & “Note to Publishers”

Dismantling Fences

There is an old saying which states that “fences make good neighbours.” Although this may seem a logical way to deal with conflicts that invariably arise due to the human condition, it is a shortsighted solution. On a larger scale, building fences–even mending fences–leaves us subject to judgmental behaviour that ignores our shared oneness. Relying on the fluctuating mentality of the masses only serves to separate us from the good that inherently unites us. Our only hope for lasting peace amongst neighbours and nations lies in dismantling our minds’ fences…forever. Below, is an example of what can occur when we truly don’t know one another:

December 1, 1955: On a bus in Montgomery, Alabama, the bus driver orders Rosa Parks and three other riders to give up their seats in the coloured section because the whites’-only section is filled. Rosa refuses to do so. As a result, she is arrested for civil disobedience and later fined ten dollars for violating segregation laws, plus an additional four dollars for court fees. A court case is launched and a bus boycott ensues for more than a year. The Supreme Court finally rules that segregation laws are unconstitutional. Throughout this time, and for years afterward, Rosa and her family receive death threats…for standing up for rights and basic dignities that should be–MUST BE–afforded to All.

At what level do we do begin to dismantle fences? Nothing short of a spiritual approach will yield the best effect. However, there is a common misconception that enlightenment (which may be defined as awakening from apparent personhood through recognition of our True Self) is something that is done; a spiritual activity that will add a beneficial dimension to our life and make us better persons–in much the same way that someone might pad a resumé. To be interested in matters spiritual might even be branded as being namby pamby; an interest to be shunned by those who have better activities with which to occupy their time. Nothing could be further from the truth.

To embark upon a spiritual quest is the bravest–most important–journey we will ever undertake. It is a figurative journey that involves travelling from conditioned ignorance to an awareness of our True Being. Such is a courageous act because recognition of True Self, by definition, involves the surrender of the false self, with whom we’ve identified for the majority of our so-called personal life. This can feel like a tremendous loss; it requires that we surrender our pride, historical story, and every triumph which we may have held dear. In short, we realize that our trophies never belonged to us; for there is truly no one here to receive them. True enlightenment is not freedom as the self; it is freedom from the self.

Until we see the Truth beyond our own mask (the name and form identity called “me“) it’s literally impossible for us to see the true nature of those with whom we share this planet. Spiritual teachings may, at best, lead to more civilized and tolerant behaviour; but such is not the solution. It can lead to the smug piousness that turns individuals away from the subject of spirituality. The solution is to directly experience our Oneness; for through this knowing–lived–our fences fall down of their own accord.

The journey to Self, and a better world, requires that we engage a deep sense of earnest curiosity; a daringness to discover That which is beyond the egoic costume, which masquerades as our identity. Such a journey holds unparalleled value; for when we discover the Truth within ourselves, we, thus, are enabled to see It shining as the glorious identity in everyone of varying class, colour, and nationality. With clear insight from our heart, we realize that persons on the opposite side of the fence are, indeed, not others; we are Oneness in a variety of forms.

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

Copyright © – 2020 – R. Arthur Russell

P.S. Please share this article if you enjoyed it. If you’d like to view my latest book (This Taste of Flesh and Bones–released September 8, 2020), press here. May it help you in your spiritual journey. 🙏🙏

“Thank You” & “Note to Publishers”