Plato
c.425 - c.347 B.C.E.
Jewel Mandala (2):
This is Lesson 1, and there are two learning targets in this lesson.
The first learning target is to introduce myself so that you will better understand what I'm presenting. I am not merely crazy, or, if I am, I have good reason to be. What do I know? By what authority do I speak? Most immediate and important to the discussion, I gift you this fact: I possess a jewel, which is a symbol but also far more. The Jewel serves the Good. Coming from me, a teacher, the Jewel is information that arrives as language. From another the Jewel could be music, let's say. The Jewel is an eternal center. And when I say I possess the Jewel, I mean I literally possess several books full of language, 1500 pages of profound occult wisdom downloaded straight from eternity. I've struggled for decades with how to summarize and present these words, for they are not mine to keep. They belong to all people.
These books are organized binders at my house. I myself typed the contents, years of work, and I am certainly their editor; but I am not the lead author. These books contain the verbatim transcripts of years of ouija dialogues, literal conversations with deceased people (from our 2017 perspective).
My binders include 99 complete & annotated sessions—sessions that lasted roughly three hours each, averaging perhaps 60 responses per session (a wide range). The sessions were conducted in annual clusters over a sixteen-year period, generally during a well-planned summer week at my home in Washington State (teacher = summer vacation).
I had a partner—a living partner—in this enterprise. It takes two to ouija. Because we each made our lives on opposite sides of the country, our physical time together was limited (thus only 99 sessions). As I am Albion, he is Scribe, which name our respective roles in & out of time. And it may seem strange, but I'm still not sure what an albion is or does. It's one of those private existential puzzles I'm supposed to figure out in life. I’ll share clues. Scribe, however, is a poet. He's also a genius.
January 2, 1989: Scribe and I first sat down to ouija on a complete whim. We continued doing it for obvious reasons: It worked. But that first night we tried we got such garbled results we dared not authenticate the process. So we tried again. Lots of pure gibberish, what one should expect. But all it takes is one or two clear responses—spelled out at an ouija board, one awkward letter at a time. Our first undeniable miracle came in Session 2. Not horrific or ugly, it marked nonetheless a devastating moment not unlike Trump's election, a cleft in my personal psyche that scars everything that followed it. I will never recover (and don't want to).
Wait for it… Let the tricolor wheel icon spin idly for a few thought-seconds: The reader must absorb… Get stats for the science needy.
The Table of Contents below is too long to display fully. If you click to the right of these Lessons, you'll see the primary source documents displayed under each. These original sessions are a world treasure.
Ouija Board (2)
The goal of our curriculum is simply to make us better individuals, to help us become ourselves. And of course we set a high bar. That such a curriculum exists means there are distinct levels of spiritual attainment one can aim for, as well as disciplines one can practice. I will offer some of these. Soon our instruction became year-round, as our teachers gave us "homework" that would take the full intervening year to complete—and I sometimes couldn't. Scribe and I spent two or three (expensive) hours per week on the phone, discussing our lessons, research, and discoveries, all very intense work and quite a lot of fun. I miss our long talks.
After sixteen years of this training—much more than I describe—Scribe had absorbed all our teachers' instruction, a true threshold, and began working in new directions with a third living member, Advisor, who arrived late in our work. As our personal curricula diverged—and my own children entered high school, etcetera & ad infinitum…—I couldn't keep up. My karassmates, who lived within walking distance of each other and who, thus, could sit down to ouija throughout the year, quickly flew off to other lessons, other worlds I couldn't reach and could not comprehend without their experience. (Eternity is infinite.) Soon I couldn't follow the conversation at all. The metaphors meant nothing to me. I had nothing to contribute.
So I left, or rather after the 2005 sessions no further sessions were scheduled with me. Scribe and Advisor continued their ascents, but my incomplete work was, and remains, mine alone. My teachers have given me all the clues I need, so there’s nothing more for them to say until the job is done. For the last eleven years, I've been stuck on a necessary desert island, managing well my exhausting domestic and professional life, but removed from contact with my friends & teachers, absent especially from the dreams that sustained so much of our instruction, slogging through my slow release. Writing this very page is an incremental step forward, one of scores I have taken. Some steps are monstrous. How many more?
I cannot know that I will make it. Nothing is guaranteed. Free will, in fact, means we must always be able to fail. And each of us, for long stretches, walks alone.
Which returns us to the world, this world. We all are here by choice. Our eternal souls chose to enter this world stage at this world moment to meet the challenges of the age, of human history, for it all comes together very soon. Politicians will have to catch up in a hurry. They all have their pants down now. I don't know what's going to come, but Earth can't wait any longer. Albion stands naked before you. (He doesn't look to be terrified.)
Hail aliah
12/16
§
Dante with Virgil at the Gates of Purgatory
William Blake
Visions of the Daughters of Albion - Frontispiece
*Learning target #2: Sovereign Good exists.
This is the single most important fact of my existence. When I occasionally sense (which sense?) what this really means, I am beyond joy. To be clear, the absolute Good is real, confirmed by my teachers at the board, the basis of our union. No shit. But it's not what most people think it is. It's certainly not omnipresent. Most of the world is not good. Which means the Good is not "God" by the definitions and qualities that most people attribute to God. In fact, Sovereign Good is, as Plato envisioned, quite distant from us, beyond any living human, beyond all humanity and human thought, beyond my beautiful teachers, a distant star. I aim to point it out to you, let you set your sail by it if you wish, but only if you really wish it. It is more than you think—meaning, it's not what you think.
At this point, heading into future lessons here, let this just be the star we drift toward. This is all I aim to do in life, all I've ever aimed for. The lessons I will present, since they pertain to ability, can, indeed, be misused. There is lethal danger and much worse, because this is real magic, not superstition, not hocus pocus. I have stories from the source. There is actual magic in the world, an immense reservoir of human potential, which well could be our only chance at arresting the Sixth Mass Extinction, now underway. It could also prove far worse than any button Trump might press, so I forewarn. I fear I might be making a big mistake by revealing secrets. I have no future knowledge.
albionspeak: a draught of language
Lesson 1: A Choice
The election of Donald Fuck Trump commenced a profound clock. Perhaps before this election there was a fork in human history. Perhaps on an alternate timeline Hillary Clinton will serve as President of a nation that keeps hope, where Supper is served warm and future plans are firm. Instead we got this timeline, Trump's countdown to Apocalypse, and we all chose it. Each of us invited this chaos, even those of us who find him revolting and voted with the majority against him—in fact, especially us. We willingly, willfully, and woefully chose this soul-ripping defeat and this impending critical mass, because this is where we're needed most. We go where we're needed.
Find your hands. Pinch yourself. In all of Infinity this Earth is where we plant our flag. Everyone is needed now.
SESSION 2: 1/3/89
4. Question: How can we please you?
Answer: PLAY GAME
5. Q: What game do you want to play?
A: WTIGSHU - nonsense
6. Q: How do we play?
A: SEEK TH HIGHER H
7. Q: Thank you for your visit. How do we “seek the higher?”
A: LEARNING
For the curious I lay out the mechanics of ouija in Ch. 3.3, something I don't actually think is important. Within a few years Scribe & I had developed a handful of props & rituals that aided our focus and reception, but these rituals were early aids only, less needed later. In Session 10 of our fourth year, always working with the same spirit "guide," Scribe and I learned we belong to the same karass, or fellowship outside of time. Together we comprise a "union of unlike parts," where only a few of our members are alive on Earth at any given time. Indeed, our earthly conjunction is rare, but especially so since we are consciously aware of our connection, almost unknown to history. (I will add here, to avoid any misleading: Yes, many other karasses exist on Earth right now. But I know little about others (like yours), except that most are much larger in membership, orders of magnitude. And many people belong to no karass at all.) Slowly but surely we were introduced to other members of the Jewel Net, our karass.
I include much of Session 10 (Chapter 1.1) as the next reading following this lesson, a milestone in our development, still crude due to awkward ouija mechanics. I include "Vilansit's Story" as well, most of Session 37 (Ch. 1.2), to show the reader the depth and profound connections that ouija freely offers. While it's not typical of our sessions—which generally involve multiple voices & interchanges—"Vilansit's Story" does represent the quality of our dialogues. Most lessons, though, just can't be presented in isolation as solo sessions or excerpts. They'd make no sense.
By the sixth year, well past the early garble, now able to receive lucid paragraphs at a rate of about one letter per second, Scribe & I found ourselves immersed in a profound training. We were apprentices, and our main interlocutors—the six speakers we came to know well—became our karass teachers, where each proved a master of a different branch of knowledge and all led us through incredibly detailed lessons (every letter a miracle). Soon we found our ouija lessons constituted only part of a much larger curriculum designed by all of us outside of time—not just our teachers, but by ourselves as well, the eternal aspects of ourselves who coexist with them outside of time (see Albion figure). And no, we have no conscious memories.
a student portrait (2004)
Despite my personal challenges, despite Trump, the message I offer is one of qualified hope. I assert, dear Reader, that you have the power to reach eternity. You do! While many do not survive eternity, you can if you choose. But you have to choose fully, and you have to reach for it yourself. This takes work—not busy work, not robotic repetition or algorithm—soul work. You must be invested from your core. People can help you, inspire you, teach you, but no one else can make you a better person. No god can make you you. You have to do it yourself.
What does it mean to be a better person? For us it means two things, ability and morality. The curriculum Scribe & I were given addresses our minds: how to connect with eternity, how to think with intent, how to open doors to other worlds—also, what to do when one does: Ability only. But ability invites misuse, both deliberate & misconceived, as even the noblest acts can figure in catastrophe. (I am fallible.) Full knowledge of one’s powers may lead to improved control, leading to greater ability, but control for what purpose? To what end should one exercise one’s tiny will in Infinity, that which no power can withstand? And since no thing survives Infinity, then existential "survival” cannot be the prime justification for our existence.
Thus, morality. Morality is self-explanatory perhaps, but hardly easy. It is not enough merely to question one’s own actions, to consider carefully the potential harm before one acts. Heaven is not gained through negative confessions alone. (I haven’t murdered anybody, etc…) Heaven is a choice that moves you forward: Choice after choice after discontinuous, unique choice. We are our choices. Although I have yet to prove it, I am convinced that the Good is not merely the best choice that humans can make; ultimately it is the only choice. We either become evermore “good” in eternity or we fail to become altogether.
But can’t I explain how eternity works in Lesson 1. It will take many lessons, no sum of which alone can teach it fully. Students must reach. Let's review the learning targets: 1) Introduce myself: I am Albion. That painting at the top of this webpage by poet, artist, and visionary, William Blake, is indeed my physical form, my near-exact likeness painted 165 years before my birth. Today, though middle-aged, I'm still recognizable. Blake, who is the only historical karass member I will identify—precisely because of this connection—was a difficult character in life, a thorny asshole at times, but he was the real deal, true to his sight. He had visions all the time, and these were not delusions. Advisor does too.
AI-generated images of possible futures…
I live both in & out of the world, the physical earth where my children will die. I care. As a teacher I took full advantage of my summers and visited with my family as much of the busy busy world as I could, many places tourists rarely travel. I study. I've seen good & bad, beauty & ugliness, which is solely human-caused—quite a lot of the spectrum. I work to understand. America is not the whole world. And there are, in truth, many better worlds out there, an infinite number if you pursued them all. Infinity is. But so what? I belong here and won't turn to other worlds. My daughters are here, others as well.
an Albion chorus line!
Weird, I know, believe me… I’ve had to live with it, not knowing what, if anything, it implies. Why me? And I have lived thousands of miracles, literally, many outside ouija, miracles I will share in testimony and analysis. I have many ways to access divine wisdom, not ouija only. I have spoken with enlightened beings outside of time, not all human, who see much that we can't, but are themselves imperfect and growing. I have trained consciously in life for nearly three decades in this material, plumbed the depths of my dreams and internal dialogues, and yet in my personal progress I still feel barely more than the bitter adage: Those who can't, teach. I must teach now, not later as I planned. I wanted more time to prepare. I remain confused by much. There are many many components I have yet to figure out. I could go on preparing indefinitely. But fuck! Trump has launched the countdown.
The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun
William Blake
Now let's be clear: While my teachers see possible futures effortlessly from their eternal perspective, Scribe and I are not permitted such knowledge. The future is not determined, and to consider one particular future over others helps lock that one into place. (This is akin to the role of an observer in the Double-Slit Experiment.) Sacred to all members of my karass—we even take vows—we never violate the free will of another. So simply to hint at future events can be as fate-altering as the worst time-traveling sci-fi movie. We fantasize about going back in time to shoot Hitler or to save some love-interest from tragic death (or equally absurd). Don't mess with the timeline!!! What we don't realize is that this actually happens all the time. Past & future are in constant flux. So, regarding the Trump Apocalypse that many of us fear—the coming one, not the election—I don't know any more about the future facing us than any other serious, educated person. I have no insider information on this. Which means I'm terrified. So wait! I cry in cartoon anguish. Trump might be great!
Trump is not the problem. He's just the clearest sign from the Whole Fucking Universe that the problem is too big for us to solve politically. I'm not so worried about blowing up Iran or London or NYC or WTF. These are chickenfeed. I worry about the whole goddam human race and planet. Environmental change, possibly catastrophic, is already upon us. Every day we delay is on our children's heads. Trump, a climate change denier, at least clarifies the enormity. When I move in mind from the mountains of eternity to the ugly hole our planet is in, I am angry, bitter, and heart-broken. This hurts. Earth is dying.
Lesson 1: A Choice
Images & Attributions (in order of appearance)
1. Banner: Rhiannon C. 2016
a) Jewel Mandala (2): D.C. Albion 1994
b) Albion Glyph: "Glad Day" or "The Dance of Albion," William Blake, c.1794
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/47/William_Blake_-_Albion_Rose_- _from_A_Large_Book_of_Designs_1793-6.jpg
2. "Glad Day" or "The Dance of Albion," William Blake, c.1794
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/47/William_Blake_-_Albion_Rose_-_from_A_Large_Book_of_Designs_1793-6.jpg
3. Jewel Mandala (2): D.C. Albion 1994
4. Original Jewel session transcripts w/ typed & annotated binders: D.C. Albion 2017
5. Photo of transcript page (Don, 2004): D.C. Albion 2017
6. Jewel ouija board (2): D.C. Albion 1994
7. Student portrait of [Albion]: J. Booth, 2004
8. Portrait of William Blake (by Blake?)
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/0e/William_Blake,_painter_and_poet_(page_50).png
9. "An Albion Chorus Line": Blake, "Glad Day" or "The Dance of Albion," c.1794
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/47/William_Blake_-_Albion_Rose_-_from_A_Large_Book_of_Designs_1793-6.jpg
10. "The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun," William Blake
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/d3/Reddragon.jpg/220px-Reddragon.jpg
11. "Visions of the Daughters of Albion - Frontispiece," William Blake
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/63/Blake_Daughters_of_Albion_1.jpg/180px-Blake_Daughters_of_Albion_1.jpg
12. Marble bust of Plato (artist unknown)
13. "Dante with Virgil at the Gates of Purgatory," William Blake
https://uploads4.wikiart.org/images/william-blake/illustration-to-dante-s-divine-comedy-purgatory.jpg!PinterestSmall.jpg
[1] namely, the inauguration of Donald Trump and our descent into barbarism
Glad Day or The Dance of Albion
William Blake c. 1794
Stranger Than Fake News
January 20, 2017 [1]
Moved by the disaster, I now step forward, not a savior, but as a trained teacher only. I am Albion, someone with a difficult message from eternity. I have been training my whole life for this moment, knowing it would come. Even so, announcing myself at this point was not my plan. I just retired from a career as a public school teacher and thought I had years to write My Book, years of reclusive ripening to process more fully the lessons of my enlightened teachers. For though I am a teacher and have considered my curriculum for a very long time, I am still no master myself. I'm a middle-aged, middle-class white guy who's struggled for years to balance a normal, suburban existence with an arduous occult apprenticeship, and so far I have failed. (It sounds like a Fox sitcom, but it's my real life.) That is, I gave so much to my wife & children and the children of my community that I ignored my own lessons, which often overwhelm me. I couldn't manage both sorcery and my daughters, so I chose my daughters. I would make that same choice every time.
So I'm not a sorcerer or some embodiment of goodness, come to wave my wand or bid you to follow me. I’m not even a flyer. I'm a teacher only, flawed & unfinished, though practiced in my craft. I have something vitally important to present, something most people have never heard or considered, which I hope can change the world. It is not a simple curriculum. In fact, it's undeniably hard and involves certain pain, but here's my real challenge, as a teacher and writer: I think I can present this material to someone with a brain, with an education, with values & questions & Trumpfuck fear looming ever nearer as impetus. Someone like me. I've practiced my whole life to be a responsible person, a thoughtful and good person. (So if you're like me, please read on!) But we aren't the problem. Nor can we blame ignorant, frightened infants for being gullible and behaving badly, tribally, just as we don't spank newborns for pooping in their diapers. We do, however, spank them awake for their very first breath.
William Blake “Friend”
Blake lived through the worst of the Industrial Revolution. When, as a living person, he wished to describe an ideal England, he asked to see "Albion," a human figure who could symbolize for him the old land he had in mind (“green & pleasant”). Apparently this is how Blake composed much of his poetic prophesying. It was his artist's method to assign human forms to locations, often then to address them directly (a method I don't fully ken). So when Blake asked to see "Albion," my eternal form popped up. I don't know why, and I have no memory of the event, since from my perspective it took place outside of time. In 1994 Scribe and I spoke to Blake at our ouija board via exactly the same threads of connection that allowed him to see my image two centuries earlier. He himself explained his vision and subsequent painted image (and then asked me to strip for a comparison!). He did not in 1794 know my name nor whence I came to greet him. We just had a quick exchange of information and mutual support.
To be clear—and here's a bit of a letdown—William Blake has not graced our table since his single cameo appearance very early on. My regular teachers, people of equal magnitude & greater, I know as well as my own family, while I don't consciously know Blake any better than anyone else who has withered on his writings. I don't pretend to understand most of them. So I still don't know why my form was chosen, especially as there are other albions.
Except today, in the aftermath of Trump Apocalypse, as I announce myself and offer my services to the planet, I choose also to close a circle, repay an eternal debt/favor. Blake was very public about his psychic abilities despite what people thought of him, despite beatings from his father and scorn from the London marketplace. He didn't give a shit. I Albion am here to publicly vindicate Blake's prophetic prowess and prove him right. Blake was a real seer, and I'm the living proof. (See figures.) Ta-da!