One man with a gun can control 100 without one - Vladimir Lenin
Control needs one thing to exist. Just one thing. Fear. Pointing the finger at a common enemy makes sense, and appeals to our earliest set of survival instincts. First we must locate the thing that is 'bad' or 'wrong' according to our commonly accepted paradigms and then we must isolate it by fearing it or attempting to destroy it. Or both.
But what happens when what we fear is no longer seen as the enemy but as part of the control mechanism? And what has this subject to do with climate change? Please read on.
One cannot so much as glance at an article about global warming or climate change without seeing at least one rant in the comments section that global warming is a conspiracy created by those in power for the simple purpose of defrauding good honest folks of their hard earned money. To perpetrate this hoax, these powerful people have told the scientists to lie and to continually provide false data; they encourage the media to frequently publish fear stories to keep the people in a state of discomfort while continuing to quietly increase carbon taxes in more interesting and inventive ways. There are some very angry people out there, and they are all over the Internet. They blog, they campaign, they use YouTube, they tweet, and they continue to repeat the same mantra over and over...that global warming is a complete hoax. While it is reasonable to assume that so long as there is no hard and fast data that proves the link between CO2 emissions and global warming, these people can continue to shout their message far and wide if it makes them feel better. What is more relevant is why they are so angry. What are they afraid of? Being wrong? Being right? Why are they so determined to control this issue in any way that they can? Or...could it be possible that they are just a cog in the control machine without even realising it?
Control is an interesting concept. We speak of it in many ways. We control our temper or our spending, we control our bad habits, we control our diet, some of us like to control other people, some of us are controlled by other people. We have remote controls for almost everything imaginable. People talk about mind control, controlled states, customs control, military control, thought control...the list is long. Perhaps too long. The more we think about it, the more we seem to realise that control is a huge part of our reality. Yet control is nothing more than a concept. It is not a concrete item which can be handled, measured and opened up to see what's inside. It is nothing more than a thought, albeit a very powerful collective thought. We all believe in it and we are all part of it.
Seen in this light, let's divert from the post topic for a few minutes and pretend control has become a lovely green field, that is large and square...so large in fact that almost all of humanity and the world's animals are able to live in it comfortably. In this massive field are homes, cities, towns, factories, airports, oceans, mountains and forests...but at its very edge it is just a lovely green field that ends abruptly...at a fence. This fence is not remotely frightening. It is a fairly ordinary wooden fence. Easy to climb over, it might even suggest to many that climbing it could be fun...
One day an adventurer leaves the big city and begins to wander, not really certain of what he is looking for, merely aware that he is vaguely curious about his world and wants to learn more. He visits many other cities and towns, he sees the oceans and the mountains, he explores the forests and then one day after many days of walking through beautiful green fields he comes upon the fence. He looks up and down along the endless length of the fence in bewilderment, not understanding what he is seeing. On the other side of the fence, there seems to be more green fields stretching on endlessly, but they seem to shift and move a little as though the fabric of reality is a little less stable there. Frightened, he backs away from the fence and returns to the city to tell others of his discovery.
Back home his friends listen to his incredible tale, but none wish to return with him to see the fence for themselves...most of them are too busy, they haven't the time, the children need to go to their sports events and music lessons and later the Smiths are coming over to dinner so preparations must be made. One day slips into the next until life passes them by and the chance for the adventurer to return to the fence with a friend is gone.
Several generations go by, wars break out, food becomes more expensive, the divide between the rich and the poor has grown so markedly that riots are occurring everyday in one city or another. The huge field begins to become a place of unhappiness...animals die inexplicably, birds fall out of the sky, whales wash ashore dead of starvation. Water becomes poisonous and mysterious strains of bacteria which cannot be cured begin to creep across the land, killing their victims one by one without mercy. There are more adventurers now, and many have heard of the fence because of the advancements in technology. Quite a few have gone to see it for themselves, yet until today no one has tried to climb it. Now one man has decided to climb the fence to find out what is in the field of shifting perspectives.
He places his foot on the lowest part of the fence and begins to climb, the going is easy and after a few moments he is at the top of the fence. He looks back at the the field where the others have gathered and watch him in silence. Briefly he salutes them and without hesitating he swings his leg over and jumps to the other side. He lands and looks back to wave to the others but he can no longer see them; the perspective has switched and he is now looking over the fence to a green field of shifting light and rippling air.
Slowly he turns around to face what is in front of him. He falls back against the fence in terror. It is a world of horror. It is a world of fear. Black skies churn with filthy clouds that rain blood onto the land, burning everything it touches. Massive bolts of lightning tear the skies and land asunder. There is nothing green alive, nothing but ruined buildings, and huge pieces of sharp metal, twisted by some incredible agony he cannot imagine. The trees are broken and burnt and everything smells of death. Monsters of indescribable size roam the landscape tearing at themselves and each other, comprised of a conglomeration of the faces of men and creatures which must have once lived there. Out of their mouths come screams of agony and incredible despair.
Just as our brave adventurer decides he must retreat as quickly as possible he catches a glimpse of something far-off which does not fit in with the world he is facing. He stares into the distance and catches sight of it again. It is a glimmer of pure white light, so small he begins to think he might have imagined it, but he is compelled by it, almost as though it is pulling him towards it. Wild-eyed he considers the distance and the obstacles he must overcome to reach it. It is a suicide mission, he will never make it. Reluctantly he turns back and climbs the fence, resolving to bring others with him, perhaps with weapons and supplies. He knows he will never forget that pure, white light. He knows it is important and that he must return. Somehow he will make it through.
When he returns his friends are no longer there. He calls for them but only silence greets him. In the distance, he sees an old man walking towards him. Perhaps he has seen which way his friends went. As he draws closer he sees the old man is dressed in rags and is on the brink of starvation. Troubled by this sight, he searches his pockets for some food to offer him, which the man gladly takes. In time the man is able to speak and our adventurer must learn the awful truth; He has climbed back into his world many years later to an apocalyptic nightmare. There is no food, no medicine, anarchy reigns in the cities which are only loosely controlled by whatever militia briefly manages to hold power. Those who were in power ran away a long time ago, or were killed by the masses in the revolutions. In despair our hero sits down and cries, realising he has no where to go and no one to turn to. The old man says he must keep moving, there are wild dogs roaming the fields and they are hungry too, and soon he too is gone. The fence silently beckons the adventurer back. Prodding him. Calling to him. Slowly our hero rises and goes to the fence, and climbs it without looking back.
Landing once again on the other side, our adventurer prepares himself for what he must face - a terrifying dash across a hellish nightmare. He waits until the monsters are far enough away to begin to run to the ruins halfway between the fence and the light. Drawing a deep breath, he sprints across the rotting ground, realising he is running over body parts and slipping on things he cannot imagine. His terror drives him forward, and he pants in shallow breaths as he races towards the light, which, as he draws closer forms into the shape of a large opening like a door. Never taking his eyes from the light, never looking left or right - not even when he begins to hear the screams of a monster drawing near - he runs on, until his chest burns and his legs go numb. The door draws ever closer and the light becomes stronger, urging him on. When his stamina finally fails him, his adrenalin carries him forward, and as the bloody rain runs down his body he reaches the door and throws himself through it.
And there he finds he is in a field once again. But this time there is no fence. The air is pure, the land is healthy, and spreads away in all directions. The door is gone, and is replaced by the warmth of the sun. The screams are replaced by the lazy buzzing of bees gathering nectar from wildflowers.
'No fence...' he breathes, and begins to laugh with joy. 'No fence!' he cries once again as he realises that he has left behind a lie he believed was true. After a few moments of drinking in the air and marvelling at how free he feels, our hero sits down, alone in a world without a fence, in a world not bounded by fear...and waits.
It seemed best to approach this post with an allegory, to show how in a controlled environment we are wired to believe everything we see as fact. We live in the huge field, but it is a closed space of the mind which can only rot and decay. To leave this place, we must question its functionality and to do so means we must wade through all the lies surrounding the lies. Conspiracy theories are an example of the negative things we use to enforce that fence around us. We see there is a line between what we know and what we don't know, and bridge that gap with assumptions some other 'power' has control over these things. But having conspiracy theories distract and tempt one into believing the truth is found there, such as when our hero first viewed the horrors on other side of the fence, prevents us from having the chance to glimpse the light of truth. Perhaps there are small grains of truth in each of them, perhaps not...the important point is this space of no man's land, where conspiracy theories reign, is like the hellish world the adventurer had to pass through to find out that all of it was about control, even the parts which seemed to be increasing his awareness.
Again, what does any of this have to do with climate change? For those of you who are keeping tabs on the earth changes which have escalated since the beginning of this year, you might agree the arguments for and against the reality of climate change are quickly becoming irrelevant. We may never prove one way or the other the real cause of what is changing the climate of Earth, but we can change how we think about it. Accepting conspiracy theories are part of the control concept is the first step in understanding our planet and ourselves in a healthy way.
We cannot control the climate, we cannot control the weather, and we cannot stop the earth changes. But we can see what is happening all around us. We have more freedom than we know. We can climb the fence, pass through the land of lies which make control seem necessary...and arrive in a world without boundaries. A world of light. A world without fear.
Originally posted on Paradigms Bend June 30 2011